tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16060840876751997822024-03-23T13:11:07.602-05:00Got Ham Legs?Do you have ham legs? No?! Then get off my blog! But if you do, you can stay and talk about music, fashion, and how there are many crazy people out there.Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-51016354007801537712007-05-19T18:41:00.000-05:002008-12-09T00:15:05.158-05:00Damien Rice-Hamtastic!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNkWnBuJt4tzlablmVaLwZmPbKwvKxVB52LxwCv9VFqa1gB3xBjVuOX4SL2WPznZBonRD3ZKISxaN-xTCzYVWWTK2Ojk_K7RO_v-806suS1Nwc1h7HFvGfX73FDaQ09fu1AG9MarFjohg/s1600-h/dr_9_medium.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNkWnBuJt4tzlablmVaLwZmPbKwvKxVB52LxwCv9VFqa1gB3xBjVuOX4SL2WPznZBonRD3ZKISxaN-xTCzYVWWTK2Ojk_K7RO_v-806suS1Nwc1h7HFvGfX73FDaQ09fu1AG9MarFjohg/s320/dr_9_medium.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066423304163512450" /></a><br /><br />I have been a Damien Rice fan for about 4 years now. The first song of his I heard was Volcano on the "O" album. Listing to his music is like eating something so good that you don't want to finish it because then it's gone, and you want to keep that wonderful taste in your mouth. Volcano, in particular is one of those songs that when I hear it, it's like I could never possibly listen hard enough to it, to capture every bit of goodness from it. <br /><br />Mike and I went to see Damien Rice at Massey Hall last night. It was the second time we saw him live. The first time was 3 years ago at the Convocation Hall when he was promoting his "O" Album. The last show was great but this show was Amazing! <br /><br />To be honest, I wasn't excited for the show at all. First, when I purchased the tickets, I chose floor seating and I didn't know until the tickets arrived that it defaulted me to "best available" which were the old wooden death seats in the gallery. We had those seats before, and I remembered how uncomfortable they were! The second reason I wasn't very excited about the show was that Lisa Hannigan, who sings on almost every song in his new album, "9" left the band. I didn't know how the songs were going to sound without her, especially since the first voice you hear on the new album is Lisa's on the song '9'. Although she is a fantastic singer, thankfully she wasn't missed. Damien opened the show with an unbelievable version of the song 9.<br /><br />The show was filled with a little of everything-even, sadly, rapping! Vyvienne Long, Damien's Cellist did a "rap/song" that reminded me of that old lady in the wedding singer, or hearing your mom trying to "do a rap". Thankfully it only lasted about 2 and a half minutes and Damien was back. <br /><br />The stage set was simple and the lighting perfectly matched the music. He did an acoustic version of 'Cannonball' and totally rocked the fuck outta 'Volcano' and 'Woman Like a Man'. He also talked a lot more to the audience then he did in the last show I saw. He told two great stories behind the songs 'Amie' and 'I Remember'.<br />He ended the show with, lack of a better word, a 'skit' for the song 'Cheers Darlin'. It seemed somewhat out of his element, but it worked nevertheless. <br /><br />He had the audience captivated from beginning to end. I could have sat in those wooden death seats all night just to listen to him. Damein, if you're reading this ;) You must put out a live album!<br /><br />I leave you now with my favourite Damien Rice song, 'The Blowers Daughter'<br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NoevpThlXKw"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NoevpThlXKw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-30542125327132955592007-04-16T16:47:00.000-05:002007-04-16T16:48:31.601-05:00Ham LiarI have no excuse, but now I'm leaving for my 10 day trip....there WILL be the continuation AND there will be pictures.....Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-35214866587699953702007-03-08T22:39:00.000-05:002008-12-09T00:15:05.348-05:00Continuation Ham<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlqWLDkVRZOy-f3mDW6IDa-pXUtE7JkOCSfgCOsFYvnyuaIRUBfFMEy7K-py3fnuIKs-EhhlnNODH-9QXJIADYzf4bda_IMwxF3gi2TH4qBHVDUtt4eu3IfnHBef9tvXEGZkA307uWHI/s1600-h/Photo+216.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlqWLDkVRZOy-f3mDW6IDa-pXUtE7JkOCSfgCOsFYvnyuaIRUBfFMEy7K-py3fnuIKs-EhhlnNODH-9QXJIADYzf4bda_IMwxF3gi2TH4qBHVDUtt4eu3IfnHBef9tvXEGZkA307uWHI/s320/Photo+216.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039765601093195458" border="0" /></a><br />....So there I was in a shitty town, living in the WORST apartment ever, with a crazy boyfriend and without a job. Good start. I got a job at a flower shop, I lied and said that I had worked in a well known flower shop back in Canada. I actually bluffed it pretty well, but I hated it. Its really really cold working in a flower shoppe, and people are ridiculous about their flowers. Although I didn't work at the restaurant anymore, Julie and I still hung out. She had been in the town for about a year before me. She was going to the local college. So she introduced me to her friends.<br />While I was at the flower shoppe I had applied for a management position with an Irish charity company, they were opening a store in crappytown. I got the job. It was the first "real" job I ever had. Since it was a charity shop, we relied on volunteer work and that was my main role, to get people to work for free!<br />Julie was a huge help. She came in every Saturday and on afternoons she didn't have class. Alan even came in every so often to help, and mostly to talk, talk, talk to everyone who came in.<br />One day this tall handsome guy came in to speak to someone about volunteering. He said he wanted to come in 3-4 times a week to help out. I was very confused as to why this good looking guy in his late 20's would want to spend his free time volunteering in a charity shop with middle aged woman? He told me he was a writer and needed to get out of his house and clear his mind from his writing. Ed started the next day. It didn't take long for Ed, Julie and I to become really good friends, and even a shorter amount of time for Alan to become extremely jealous. I was finally making friends and being invited out with people and getting know other people. I tried to include Alan every time, but he always declined. I was sick of not having a life and felt it was his choice to not have one, but I wanted nothing to do with. Once I got to know more people, the crappytown didn't seem so crappy anymore. I was having fun-except for when I was home with Alan.<br />I had been away from home for about a year and half at this point. It was coming up to Christmas and I was really missing my family so I decided to go home for the holidays. I was home for 10 days and was so happy to be away from Alan. I knew that when I went back, I was going to have end things for good. I had tried several times before but I was always talked back into staying. I knew this time though, I would have to have a plan if I was going to end things for good.<br />I remember my first day back, I was so homesick, jet legged and sad. I decided to go to the mall for some "cheering up". This "mall" I was going to consisted of a Tesco, Penny's, and a mobile phone shop. As I was crossing the street to get to the "mall", my mind was filled of thoughts of how to get out of the relationship with Alan. I was not paying attention and crossed the street without looking. A car came within centimeters of hitting me. I was frozen in the middle of the street, I could not move. The streets were filled with people shopping and everyone stopped and stared. The woman who's car I was standing in front of rolled down her window and yelled: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING YOU STUPID CUNT"?!?!?<br />I'll tell ya, that sure as hell un-froze me! My eyes burst with tears and I ran into the mall and went to the public washrooms to compose myself.<br />The first person I ran into when I came out of the washroom was Julie. We hugged and chatted for ages. She told me that she really wanted to move out of the house she was living in, she wasn't getting on with her roommate and she was looking for a new one. That was it! That was my plan! I told her that I would move in with her and she took it from there.<br />She found an amazing new apartment in a nice area and we signed the lease for February 1st. Now all I had to do was tell Alan. I can't say he took it well, but it went just as I expected. He cried and begged and screamed. Then he said that he would rather be dead...so he left the flat and didn't come back until the next day. He slept in the car. But he wanted me to think that he killed himself. He had done this to me many times before. This time I knew was no different from the rest. I slept so well that night, knowing that I wasn't going to have to sleep there anymore.<br />I remember the night when the relationship was finally ENDED. Julie, her boyfriend Erik, Ed and I had planned to go to Kilkenny for the upcoming long weekend. I had a big crush on Ed, and I knew he had one on me. I also knew that I had to be clear to Alan that things were completely over between us. I didn't want anything to happen between Ed and I unless I knew that Alan knew that we were O-V-E-R. I went over to his place to collect the last of my things. It was the same thing again, collapsing on the floor crying, begging...like literally begging...holding on to my legs. I pushed him off of me and I left. I walked down the cobbled street on a rainy February night. I could hear Alan calling my name from the top apartment window above Francis st. Pub, and I never looked back. I could feel myself growing up in that very moment and I knew everything was going to be OK.<br />It's funny, we went to Kilkenny that weekend and nothing happened between Ed and I. Nothing more then a kiss on the cheek. And nothing ever did happen, except we became great friends. But it was the hope of something happening and the support of Julie that really gave me the strength to cut of all ties with Alan.<br />It wasn't long after Julie and I moved in together that I got offered a position with Next, a UK retail company in Dublin. I didn't really know what do to. It was a great opportunity but I had just committed to a year lease with Julie.<br />Julie called our landlord and told her that someone in my family was dieing of cancer back in Canada and that I had to move back right away and would it be OK if she stayed at the apartment and continued to only pay her half of the rent! She agreed!<br />Julie and Ed helped me find a place to live on Saturday, on the Sunday I moved in and I started my new job on the Monday Morning.<br />I lived with two other girls in the outskirts of Dublin. I was working at the "Square, Tallaght" one of the doggiest areas in Dublin. The majority of the population was the "traveling community". I loved the job, and the 75% discount on the clothes was a huge bonus!<br />I went back on the weekends and stayed with Julie, or she would come down to Dublin. It wasn't long that I was in Dublin that Julie decided that she was going to change schools and come to Dublin with me. It was at the same time my cousin Angela decided to move to Dublin for a year too. It felt like my life couldn't get any better!<br />Julie decide to move in with a classmate until Angela came, then we would all get a place together. The summer before Angela came was the summer of parties! Julie and I went out every Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday night. I was living the true Dublin life.<br />One night we were at the Zanzibar club on the Quays, we were with a bunch of people who were buying us copious amounts of tequila and celebrating my friend Suzie's birthday. Everyone got separated and I decided it was time for me to go home. A very handsome guy stopped me at the door and started chatting me up. I was too drunk even for a conversation and politely declined any advances and walked home.<br />The next weekend we were back at the same place for another birthday celebration. This time I was completely sober, since I was completely broke from the weekend before. Julie and I also had a meeting the next morning to see a house to rent. I was dancing with a friend and I asked Julie to hold on to my hand bag. After I came off the dance floor we decided we should leave. We got outside and I realized Julie didn't have my bag. She thought I had it. We argued for a minuted about who should go back in and get it. I gave in and went back. On my way out the same handsome boy that stopped me the week before stopped me again. We were both much more sober then the previous week and we exchanged numbers. He told me his name was Shane and that he would like to take me out for dinner the next evening. I was very flattered to be pursued by someone so good looking, especially after being in a relationship with a "not so attractive" person (to say the least).<br />Shane and I spent the next 2 years together. The first year was exciting and fun and everything a good relationship should be. He came from a good family. He went to a private college in Dublin studying engineering and he played rugby for his school.<br />The second year of our relationship- the year before I moved back to Canada, consisted of lying, cheating, drug abuse and arrests....but that story is for another time....<br /><br />................to be continuedMoxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-40022249119451663842007-02-20T20:58:00.000-05:002008-12-09T00:15:05.438-05:00Ham Story.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCkyBe6V6qf2y9vQXjQdRvUtavGPniy_u85NOiErMGEniacm82Mqw8Hs9Tn4Zflnz1mhJdF8ZiLu4BQ09QnK3e_spKbu1XOkVBWBSJBTEcsb9Bh4C-rGWPYSCCJjt6GgLH5uUvQG0aQs/s1600-h/Photo+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCkyBe6V6qf2y9vQXjQdRvUtavGPniy_u85NOiErMGEniacm82Mqw8Hs9Tn4Zflnz1mhJdF8ZiLu4BQ09QnK3e_spKbu1XOkVBWBSJBTEcsb9Bh4C-rGWPYSCCJjt6GgLH5uUvQG0aQs/s320/Photo+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033842354431215778" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Well, well, well! How have you all been? The Cultchie and I signed the lease to our new apartment today. Its a happy day! We need something bigger, our furniture is beginning to take over. Something I never thought would happen, or happen so soon at least.<br />After reading Green Fish's blog again, it made me think back to what brought me here... When we moved into this apartment, a "junior 1 bedroom". ALL of our stuff fit into the back of a little van. We had a futon, a TV and a book shelf that was built backwards. In 2 years we have accumulated an extra large red sofa with a "chez", a complete bedroom set, a kitchen table, a computer....you get the picture...normal house stuff.<br />Then I think back even further to when I arrived in Toronto 4 years ago this April. I had been living in Ireland for just over 4 years. I moved there with 1 piece of luggage when I was 18. I planned to stay for a year. I arrived knowing <span style="font-style: italic;">nothing . </span>I really had no clue what I was getting my self into. I read in books that I could stay at some place called "hostels" ( I really didn't know what they were) until I found a job, most likely at a pub. The picture I had in my mind of Dublin was the same as I had for the most remote parts of Ireland...green, hilly and basically all country side with little villages.<br />Wow! was I naive! (that's a nice way of saying DUMB) I was blown away by the size and fast pace of the city. It was NOT what I had expected. It didn't hit me until my second day there, that I was really on my own-at MacDonald's nonetheless! I was walking down O'Connell St. not knowing where the hell I was. I went to MacDonalds for lunch and asked for chicken MacNuggets. The girl asked me what kind of dip I wanted with them and I said; Honey. She looked at me as if I had 2 heads and 12 eyes. I could feel myself blushing and just said; I don't want anything for them. I sat there eating my dry nuggets holding back my tears thinking...What the fuck did I do?!?!?! I felt soooo alone.<br /> I had met a guy in PEI before I left that was from Dublin, his name was Alan*. He had come into Tim Hortons, where I had been working. We started chatting after I noticed his accent. He told me to give him a call when I got to Dublin, he said the would show me around and whatnot. I really thought nothing of it, so I did. We met for coffee and chatted for hours. I felt like I had made a friend and I didn't feel so alone anymore. We met a few more times and he showed me around Dublin and such. In the meantime I had contacted another Canadian girl that I met through a friend in PEI who had moved to Dublin a month before I did. She offered for me to stay with her and her roommate until I found a place of my own. I moved in after a week of staying at different hostels and sharing rooms and bathrooms with other strangers-some very, very strange strangers. It was great not having to sleep in a room with 6-12 other people. But it still was not comfortable sleeping on an armchair with my Canadian friends in their 1 room apartment.<br />Then one evening I was out with Alan* for coffee again. I was completely fascinated by him. He was a typical Dub. He could fabricate stories like know one I have ever met. I was in no way attracted to him, but I did like his company, and he was only 1 of the 2 people I knew in the entire country. He was telling me about his job, he was an archaeologist. He was starting work at a dig in Waterford and suggested that I go down and work there too! He said I didn't need experience, that I could start off as a laborer and after 6 weeks of training I would be an actual archaeologist and get paid as one too! He also told me that the company he worked for paid for your accommodation for the first 6 weeks.<br />It sounded great to me. A place to live <span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> work! Sorted! I moved down the next day. All the archaeologist's lived in the same hostel for the first 6 weeks. So I got to meet everyone the day I arrived. I would be starting the next morning. There were two other British girls starting the next day as well who would later become my roommates after our 6 weeks at the hostel, along with a crazy redhead girl from Kerry who showed me what real Irish fun was about. I noticed that evening that I was the only one who was not really an archaeologist (everyone was talking about what university they studied at, and the last place they worked). I asked Alan about it and he said I'd be fine. He showed me some of the equipment they used and told me the names for them. But I didn't have a clue what I was doing. Later that evening we stayed up talking (honestly he never shut up) one thing led to another and he kissed me. I was competely taken by surprise, but I didn't stop it. I didn't because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I went to bed that night, in my dorm room that would be my "home" for the next 6 weeks, thinking....oh shit, what have I started. But I thought the next morning, everything would be forgotten and we would just go back to being chatty friends. No such luck.<br />Once again I was too afraid to hurt his feelings by telling him that I wasn't interested in him in the same way he was interested in me. Because of that decision, I spent the next year and a half with the craziest person I have ever met.<span style="font-style: italic;"></span> Its too detailed to really go into what kind of person he was, but lets just say, my daily life consisted of hearing stories of how he worked undercover for the Irish equivalent of the CIA and that he was a liaison for the Russian KGB and how he dated famous tennis stars before he met me...it was purely insane. I never believed his stories but I let him go on with them.<br />I'm sure your asking, why the hell would I stay with him for so long if I knew he was crazy. I asked myself the same thing everyday for a long time....the answer is, I don't know. All I can tell you is; I need him until I didn't need him.<br />After the dig was over Alan convinced me to move to a shitty town on the boarder of Northern Ireland. I got a job waitressing at a VERY expensive restaurant, I was fired after my 3rd shift. I had no idea how to waitress. I had no concept of table numbers. I would take food for a table of 4 people to a table for 2 and a table of 2 to a table of 10. It was a mess and so was my life, and I was only 19 freekin years old!<br />Although I lost my job and had no source of income I did gain an amazing friend. I met at girl at the restaurant that would forever change my life. Her name is Julie and she is the reason I am where I am today....<br /><br />To be continued........Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-18880202021767286522007-01-29T18:56:00.000-05:002008-12-09T00:15:06.360-05:00Good Riddance Hamuary... Hello Hamburary!Sorry for my absence. I have no excuse for not blogging, except to say, January has been the most stressful month at my stupid job. I should have stayed in New York.<br />So, to cheer myself up, I am going to post some of my favorite things... Ooo Christian Louboutins you say? Well yes, that is one of my favorite things, but there is something else I am slightly obsessed with too.<br />I don't have a name for it though. I will call it, Objects of the opposite scale.<br /><br />Anything that is large but is meant to be small, or something that is meant to be small, is really enormous (haha, whenever I read that word, my mind automatically thinks of penis's, is that normal?)<br />So I thought I would post a few pictures to show what I'm talking about.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUjex_3HhVkTlE2A5oXXz8QQCOhzpJTI6A98CzgU0BIi85HQWflZHHdqdnE0tMFvr8ot7_qtcEw03cwLsQh39-MU33fUJhsHporkxLspPIJqttvBhp0us3R8Bo86Unihj9IsfSbHs9PG0/s1600-h/Little+cappycappy+cups.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUjex_3HhVkTlE2A5oXXz8QQCOhzpJTI6A98CzgU0BIi85HQWflZHHdqdnE0tMFvr8ot7_qtcEw03cwLsQh39-MU33fUJhsHporkxLspPIJqttvBhp0us3R8Bo86Unihj9IsfSbHs9PG0/s320/Little+cappycappy+cups.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025636433663164626" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Bv-rW168PR3cpFkG897buhVL-hlgqdhHMg-I-HSm0RDTZY8PLzR6pcBmJPyu1YAGT9K5fooDvvo7uBFQwBXV2fQ9ZFWKM_SMGDFXhk0kaFYW5_B98JptfjMulB1uZG8-QrSO-mAO4nE/s1600-h/BIG+burger.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Bv-rW168PR3cpFkG897buhVL-hlgqdhHMg-I-HSm0RDTZY8PLzR6pcBmJPyu1YAGT9K5fooDvvo7uBFQwBXV2fQ9ZFWKM_SMGDFXhk0kaFYW5_B98JptfjMulB1uZG8-QrSO-mAO4nE/s320/BIG+burger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025638241844396258" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArhDbR-zuupXs5khBnHBYB9mfJBc9qtGMowy9nJ2jzMoktiARBBUofbvzVmfkpLBsefCayfsgmZovZvUyObjzj8yeV3ZPFPswKRQlHUykjBXDen7Yo6vuX_aK8xRKVNifWQ5-WN8RQy4/s1600-h/burgers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArhDbR-zuupXs5khBnHBYB9mfJBc9qtGMowy9nJ2jzMoktiARBBUofbvzVmfkpLBsefCayfsgmZovZvUyObjzj8yeV3ZPFPswKRQlHUykjBXDen7Yo6vuX_aK8xRKVNifWQ5-WN8RQy4/s400/burgers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025638907564327154" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8WdyYibYd8KIPWDS8s1FeH-VNkP0BGUU6TdHJ3kko-Z_8Ez2wfIPxmk3KQW3DFXsv366niENnV1ZHE78a2i_EkzitnyDMJa-AsnflfoYIFcpjfP3Thyljs9JDhQJeOVxCHsBuVCtk7s0/s1600-h/NYC+big+Ball.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8WdyYibYd8KIPWDS8s1FeH-VNkP0BGUU6TdHJ3kko-Z_8Ez2wfIPxmk3KQW3DFXsv366niENnV1ZHE78a2i_EkzitnyDMJa-AsnflfoYIFcpjfP3Thyljs9JDhQJeOVxCHsBuVCtk7s0/s320/NYC+big+Ball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025639934061510914" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YzaFSiBainY_wDw7Neni2mCjM4dIjZxVcwGrAiCyzCv-r5WW_FG8mEXIqGphWpZ6-sxyiFsP697HPvjd1yJROyHqxHZ3Xi0l4wNsgp9z-Z-NkK_LC2oxM3mev5uepE1jXJnXFUZyPKc/s1600-h/Little+Chair.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YzaFSiBainY_wDw7Neni2mCjM4dIjZxVcwGrAiCyzCv-r5WW_FG8mEXIqGphWpZ6-sxyiFsP697HPvjd1yJROyHqxHZ3Xi0l4wNsgp9z-Z-NkK_LC2oxM3mev5uepE1jXJnXFUZyPKc/s320/Little+Chair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025640213234385170" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2D6I2yPWyeYtqUM5iY2X2K5xvk0GEWN_AokvelZRCS_6qWViqSYt345INewk_TbMG9FUNF6Edc3SQxn6WL2aPw-6qSOsZ7yxVMnwC4X5ExsG3AJuHQSEx68Tx-9hiDPvZwvq0wg4-V9A/s1600-h/Big+Chair,+Ugly+Man.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2D6I2yPWyeYtqUM5iY2X2K5xvk0GEWN_AokvelZRCS_6qWViqSYt345INewk_TbMG9FUNF6Edc3SQxn6WL2aPw-6qSOsZ7yxVMnwC4X5ExsG3AJuHQSEx68Tx-9hiDPvZwvq0wg4-V9A/s320/Big+Chair,+Ugly+Man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025640436572684578" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Also, I have been tagged by Angus...the fucker.<br />1. Does your house have a back door? No, I don't have a house (sad face here)<br />2. How many pets do you have? One. His name is Mike.<br />3. What word makes you smile? Ginger Fucker.<br />4. What is your favorite song? 9<br />5. Do you like clams? Man, that is a weird freekin' question. Yes I do, I'm from PEI.<br />6. Have you ever broken a bone? No.<br />7. Do you like spontaneity or consistency?I don't know! I like both, and the right situation!<br />8. Franks and beans? BEANS and WIENERS!!<br />9. The Scorpions' greatest record? Oh, now your makin' me mad!!!<br />10. Sex on the first date? Yes Please.<br />11. Larry King or Nancy Grace? Larry...Nancy make me want to punch myself in the c word.<br />12. What is the first thing you get at a buffet? a plate<br />13. Most treasured item? Christian Louboutins.<br />14. Happiest memory? Too many.<br />15. Saddest memory? I don't know! Angus, your a right Baz!<br />16. Comfort food? cake.<br />17. Guilty pleasure? Kyle Minogue.<br />18. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant where you could not read the menu? Yes. Japanese anyone?<br />19. Favorite soup? Claaaam Chowda.<br />20. Favorite swear word? Jesus. and the C word<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgahp-8u2AI-rvN1sP8tLQvj1l5iNHiPJO_DQI9FoUfAP7Pf81Al86y2PaY1z3XJeMu3fAISZDYDZq5CjowkYjv12J91Mx12FMUli4ZQeVXHCaodmxqvJPMQfDaXi4Udbk50-eFIp57sM8/s1600-h/Kyle-Minogue-Is-Back-2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgahp-8u2AI-rvN1sP8tLQvj1l5iNHiPJO_DQI9FoUfAP7Pf81Al86y2PaY1z3XJeMu3fAISZDYDZq5CjowkYjv12J91Mx12FMUli4ZQeVXHCaodmxqvJPMQfDaXi4Udbk50-eFIp57sM8/s320/Kyle-Minogue-Is-Back-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025644907633639746" border="0" /></a>Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-86281541470532108842007-01-20T12:50:00.000-05:002008-12-09T00:15:06.449-05:00The ABC, HAM'S....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYJaI7MTpdD6IVi-4rQFW3dClh9vY82oy-7EoD88QvsqUVnBtmFFI3oIj4zPE5aw0IzO7qVma0pcT8xGD_WQYdoNroMDbCCODBNrV5LxH1BH8TztizqzndfveKT8nKT8T6BrqrpELO4g/s1600-h/vicky_pollard.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYJaI7MTpdD6IVi-4rQFW3dClh9vY82oy-7EoD88QvsqUVnBtmFFI3oIj4zPE5aw0IzO7qVma0pcT8xGD_WQYdoNroMDbCCODBNrV5LxH1BH8TztizqzndfveKT8nKT8T6BrqrpELO4g/s400/vicky_pollard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022171681104852354" border="0" /></a>Already Been Chewed<br /><br />A- Available or single? Are These not the same?<br />B- Best Friend? Melinda and Mike<br />C- Cake or Pie? CAAAAAAAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <br />D- Drink of Choice? Dettol and Wine (not together though, that is sick)<br />E- Essential Item? Hair straightener<br />F- Favorite Color? Red and Pink (not together though, that is sick)<br />G- Gummi Bears or Worms? Worms! You have to put them in the freezer for 15 minutes before you eat them....YUM!<br />H- Hometown? Bootlegger City<br />I- Indulgence? PORN and shoes (not together though, that is sick)<br />J- January or February? They are both shite.<br />K- Kids? No Thank-You.<br />L- Life is incomplete without? Breathing and shoes<br />M- Marriage Date? Where? What?.......... Hello?<br />N- Number of Siblings? 1 and a half.<br />O- Oranges or apples? They are both shite. (well, apples)<br />P- Phobias/Fears? The Grudge.<br />Q- Favorite Quote? "No but yeah but yeah but yeah no but yeah no but yeah... ...but no because I'm not even going on the pill... ...because Nadine reckons they stop you from getting pregnant."-Vicki Pollard<br />R- Reason to Smile? Porn.<br />S- Season? Spring and Pepper<br />T- Tag three people! Melinda, Bug and Snipper Kitty.Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-28805682477464284642007-01-14T22:05:00.000-05:002008-12-09T00:15:07.334-05:00A Helping Ham from Victoria's SecretI never thought I would advertise my happiness about my boobs, but here I am!<br />I just find it so amazing the difference a good bra can make in your life. Now, I'm not saying this bra has "changed" my life. It doesn't go to work for me, it doesn't do the dishes or clean the toilet. But it does make my shirts, blouses and jackets look waaaaaay better.<br />Here is a picture of me before my discovery of this amazing bra........................<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1j8_Lqq3MWnR-kKSv-gocXC95WyMKfQptidnUo3HgBKjUu8vLtSpiPD_Lkp2TMuqL0tJSzrxi2uP9_UCKFJkDGOMGJ2HwKjN8_CCzd_PKdRTnbk6BdPi05yGxhstp8eaPBLypP0qF0qg/s1600-h/Before.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1j8_Lqq3MWnR-kKSv-gocXC95WyMKfQptidnUo3HgBKjUu8vLtSpiPD_Lkp2TMuqL0tJSzrxi2uP9_UCKFJkDGOMGJ2HwKjN8_CCzd_PKdRTnbk6BdPi05yGxhstp8eaPBLypP0qF0qg/s320/Before.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020090666370725170" border="0" /></a>For some reason I was constantly wearing a green hoodie with a non-sequitur hat.<br /><br />Now this is what I look like.................................................................................................<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QjA-oJromAVlQTen4tK-NbvJZ10ZHgM3XeYgsdIkJRZ2CqVgNVGg3LeOcmfHnb9qBj2m6imk_kcF8SKd00l0cb1K4-H4O_CCnlBcfK3SYghcan7PKKg1MHiXjJW_lzZU3VerWMJq6gI/s1600-h/White+Top.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QjA-oJromAVlQTen4tK-NbvJZ10ZHgM3XeYgsdIkJRZ2CqVgNVGg3LeOcmfHnb9qBj2m6imk_kcF8SKd00l0cb1K4-H4O_CCnlBcfK3SYghcan7PKKg1MHiXjJW_lzZU3VerWMJq6gI/s320/White+Top.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020091216126539074" border="0" /></a>You can really notice the difference, can't you?<br /><br />Look, even with a different top, it still works......................................................................................<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY06MuSnVDa15LqxnPbeVnsiHZSbkj1bcj7AtpmXIuah8C-zOljvMxbJeIWlU9kbU5dqWhwGd5Q5LbXbDfLtURVakRwwUBPrO_1U5gj4QvsPn8bcMPbobIxi4BIieEWIso31CG6CjkH4Q/s1600-h/No+help:grey+top.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY06MuSnVDa15LqxnPbeVnsiHZSbkj1bcj7AtpmXIuah8C-zOljvMxbJeIWlU9kbU5dqWhwGd5Q5LbXbDfLtURVakRwwUBPrO_1U5gj4QvsPn8bcMPbobIxi4BIieEWIso31CG6CjkH4Q/s320/No+help:grey+top.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020091619853464914" border="0" /></a>And the wonders it does when you're helping them along......................................................................<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvSmVPk9RhrJ9fwOpFyG3L0z1RAwKu3p7dNdTVmYQULjTK6faNVhICHZn-ayNr8vljvW90zQBMv1AXwzDrYwWfvt92XBto0rHwj9i-V2sJWpuD9olF7VocyOwqX2kRMelDGjkKnvab6Y/s1600-h/with+help:grey+top.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvSmVPk9RhrJ9fwOpFyG3L0z1RAwKu3p7dNdTVmYQULjTK6faNVhICHZn-ayNr8vljvW90zQBMv1AXwzDrYwWfvt92XBto0rHwj9i-V2sJWpuD9olF7VocyOwqX2kRMelDGjkKnvab6Y/s320/with+help:grey+top.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020092057940129122" border="0" /></a><br />Now, I just need to find something that will keep me from looking like this every Tuesday week.........<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wK11grly3r2tylLb0o4WBjFj9dA_w8E_pPNU51tNT5oMvTySPoJ5yHL-4vZ9FBCxaaJY9DJwG1VdWQvGIS-E8e0nvRDUcZ_JyA7pypoz6qxv6c_WJClJ4nGqvk4AM6REditGyx0r8DU/s1600-h/Weird+ears..jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wK11grly3r2tylLb0o4WBjFj9dA_w8E_pPNU51tNT5oMvTySPoJ5yHL-4vZ9FBCxaaJY9DJwG1VdWQvGIS-E8e0nvRDUcZ_JyA7pypoz6qxv6c_WJClJ4nGqvk4AM6REditGyx0r8DU/s320/Weird+ears..jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020093213286331762" border="0" /></a>Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-31366750552206375382007-01-11T23:02:00.000-05:002007-01-12T00:53:46.965-05:00OOOOOhhhh gotta ham itI am so drunk right now!!! I just had my "Holiday" Party for work----------its Jan 11th!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />whatever!!! or as my new saying is... What EV.<br />I had a blast, my boobs looked great I must say!!! I got a new bra from Victoria Secret. Its called "Very Sexy". It'll push everything up to make whatever you got look fuckin great! I got lots of complements for them. Someday I'll let them know that they have been doing a good job.<br />I don't think I work with ANY straight guys. Actually, one... that I know of, but I've worked with him for so long, that I think of him as my little brother... not as a "really looking at my boobs kinda of guy"<br />So anyway, enough of my blabbering on and on, I'll probably be pretty embarrassed of this post in days to come, but hey, live in the moment!! I really wanted to wear my Christian Louboutins out tonight but I couldn't. OOOOHHH I know........ Poor me!!!<br />The truth is though... I stepped on a piece of glass on Tuesday night, and it hurt like FUCK. I stepped on it with all 400lbs of weight I have. Its all the cultchie's fault. Well, not really, but I'll blame it on him, cause its easier.<br />But really though, I can't walk on my right foot...it hurts soooooooo bad. But even more honestly, even if I didn't step on that piece of glass, I probably wouldn't wear them. They are for the MOST SPECIAL occasions. We are even going to the "opera" for V-day so I can wear them. ( I am so dumb, I know) I actually do want to go though, I have never been. I think it will be enjoyable, especially at the new Four Seasons for the Performing Arts. ( and the fact I get a discount)<br />Anyway.................................... The entire reason I started THIS blog entry was because I LOVED Liz's "Movie of your Life"entry. So I am being a total copy cat.............<br />Here we go................<br /><table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="350"><tbody><tr><td bg="" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);" align="center"><br /><span style=";font-family:Georgia,Times New Roman,Times,serif;font-size:14;color:black;" ><br /><strong>The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic</strong><br /></span></td></tr><br /><tr><td bgcolor="#cccccc"><br /><center><img src="http://images.blogthings.com/ifyourlifewasamoviewhatgenrewoulditbequiz/cult-classic.jpg" height="100" width="100" /></center><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />Quirky, offbeat, and even a little campy - your life appeals to a select few.<br /><br />But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky.<br /><br /><br /><br />Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://www.blogthings.com/ifyourlifewasamoviewhatgenrewoulditbequiz/">If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?</a></div>Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-45407452378798845252007-01-03T23:47:00.000-05:002008-12-09T00:15:09.924-05:00New Ham City40 Things that happened Before, During and After New York.<br /><br />1. Mike got questioned by the US Home Land Security Team at Toronto Pearson.<br />...perhaps this had something to do with it....Those glorified security guards are not huge fans of Mohawks.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVw5BYswDpa1qx9x4nP6qf-4wJb_JjIzGOO9V0urXtrjHwohjsgkhaGVg6ptt3_3RwsxTGcXJy7LXmK-Oi8rUdES0EhMarGrhCHKwHWPliSF61hsJr9v0iVx0SY6hIOSDVexdAntzCTok/s1600-h/MIke:Mohawk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVw5BYswDpa1qx9x4nP6qf-4wJb_JjIzGOO9V0urXtrjHwohjsgkhaGVg6ptt3_3RwsxTGcXJy7LXmK-Oi8rUdES0EhMarGrhCHKwHWPliSF61hsJr9v0iVx0SY6hIOSDVexdAntzCTok/s320/MIke:Mohawk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016034431373869874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />2. We got to fly on the WORST AIRLINE EVER. Northwest Airlines SUCK ASS.<br /><br />3. We got to spend 4 hours in the Detroit Airport.<br />Surprisingly one of the coolest airports I've ever been to (strange for the poorest city in the United States...gotta love America)<br /><br />4.We ate at a dodgy curry house and survived.<br /><br />5. I got to live out my dream...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoptvIi7hGUBmoGOTYP8A_j11QzSqucSrFjyK9sicR2z5ydPDe7IkQVU56j6hPwhuZHfEANLgDlVlvMOdMmx3ER1Eca3Hdnx-gox9vYSr8AFHCX9a8V2eyqQnsmp7sZPOhwy8dlApaMp0/s1600-h/Christian+Louboutin:Maddison+Ave..jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoptvIi7hGUBmoGOTYP8A_j11QzSqucSrFjyK9sicR2z5ydPDe7IkQVU56j6hPwhuZHfEANLgDlVlvMOdMmx3ER1Eca3Hdnx-gox9vYSr8AFHCX9a8V2eyqQnsmp7sZPOhwy8dlApaMp0/s320/Christian+Louboutin:Maddison+Ave..jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016036982584443714" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />6...... Twice.<br /><br />7. We ate at a great Italian Restaurant in Greenwich Village and had a waiter who was older then New York City. He had the shakiest hands ever, but he insisted on pouring our wine every time our glasses looked like they had a slight sip out of them. He managed to get most of the wine in the glass too. He was cool.<br /><br />8. We went to a pub in the Bowery that gave 2 for one Guinness.<br /><br />9. We went to the oldest Irish pub in New York City. I saw 3 willy's in less then 8 minutes. And squeezed past a load of twats to go take a piss, and left quickly afterwards.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXeWcXpDsfLBVX1kO295qe2rwwcEY3wBqoYiR9TxxLxNJbB_plHkwl9KFZfpXYWckYYS803XfDuoIRCKktmYBNyey4Rf4xyWuMIvRieMDd1bleZjWvqpmbCX2tAeN_2QMj-2sbJPWI4E/s1600-h/l1155-10312005-35784.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXeWcXpDsfLBVX1kO295qe2rwwcEY3wBqoYiR9TxxLxNJbB_plHkwl9KFZfpXYWckYYS803XfDuoIRCKktmYBNyey4Rf4xyWuMIvRieMDd1bleZjWvqpmbCX2tAeN_2QMj-2sbJPWI4E/s320/l1155-10312005-35784.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016042243919381330" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />10. I got my bangs cut, and Mike got his Mohawk more Mohawkey.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAFDXQY_iG4B4ezX4aW57Dg4Jd1WPL0_-P8VZnJ0MxaZV0OmV_yoadR0Oebeg8N-xTN2f9MylTtU0hgXZ81FBiiRXT9aeurD6dc8phMiF8cae0Y9v80FdYPL3d_3DaPx9C9uFhV0_dFTc/s1600-h/Mike:Massimo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAFDXQY_iG4B4ezX4aW57Dg4Jd1WPL0_-P8VZnJ0MxaZV0OmV_yoadR0Oebeg8N-xTN2f9MylTtU0hgXZ81FBiiRXT9aeurD6dc8phMiF8cae0Y9v80FdYPL3d_3DaPx9C9uFhV0_dFTc/s320/Mike:Massimo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016043051373232994" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />11. Got pissed at the coolest Irish Pub in New York City. Paddy Reily's.<br /><br />12. Walked the shit out of the city.<br /><br />13. Saw some BIG ASS Balls!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-LQF6dW7CNTR3X1nbGpKhaGXx2HgCHiLGpZYtHqTFFuEJUkXpAjXuQJkQFYXXHX_Vq7bU9CeFzgy1N4m6rKbgfpwZTG16X04eeidhcnqVPEN6QETOCc0G8hrbu_xrPhEkqeWddjV59pc/s1600-h/NYC+big+Ball.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-LQF6dW7CNTR3X1nbGpKhaGXx2HgCHiLGpZYtHqTFFuEJUkXpAjXuQJkQFYXXHX_Vq7bU9CeFzgy1N4m6rKbgfpwZTG16X04eeidhcnqVPEN6QETOCc0G8hrbu_xrPhEkqeWddjV59pc/s320/NYC+big+Ball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016050254033388434" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />14. Walked the shit out of the city.<br /><br />15. Went up and down the escalator's at Macy's... With glee.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8X4T4PNjq5yeAANeqUNtv6P4lG8YiuRSuxqQPWYqun3yXRuEWQ49BxY0eIKZXR4eo7Y79JP6nRcGaf0TAVmui1jiuYI2w3m6ScVM1xr607ReJNtLYpLo7A2bjRqrPWTcWjELPeHsxEDc/s1600-h/DSCF0417.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8X4T4PNjq5yeAANeqUNtv6P4lG8YiuRSuxqQPWYqun3yXRuEWQ49BxY0eIKZXR4eo7Y79JP6nRcGaf0TAVmui1jiuYI2w3m6ScVM1xr607ReJNtLYpLo7A2bjRqrPWTcWjELPeHsxEDc/s320/DSCF0417.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016050803789202338" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />16.Enjoyed the view from our hotel room window.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHR7ArCnuc4HTnUsmMq15dh20jRiWhRsz2XA8CQCrzRtgKdjeAnWDfYag1PXGY-A0Es3QV_gttYLnZOdbKjP78ihVS1eDpOikdlO114I8ixWjY0U1mp75P5pYYqL5zeLDs4_SJ62CAzho/s1600-h/DSCF0456.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHR7ArCnuc4HTnUsmMq15dh20jRiWhRsz2XA8CQCrzRtgKdjeAnWDfYag1PXGY-A0Es3QV_gttYLnZOdbKjP78ihVS1eDpOikdlO114I8ixWjY0U1mp75P5pYYqL5zeLDs4_SJ62CAzho/s320/DSCF0456.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016051284825539506" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />17. Thoroughly enjoyed the choice between either blistering hot, or hypothermia inducing cold showers at the Gershwin Hotel.<br /><br />18. Walked the shite out of New York City.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHClkZdO2z4kND_5wy4ZdbOODAP5WW7GiSlHQG2XwARk14DNuy0qriXa39GWKCeAHL4xFQP5SOBgqsucwdqGo3itlhz2Lp3kBwJeHQUGxgFRs6pBxtAB8pfsFoljfpXbK5rBZU4DSoj_Y/s1600-h/DSCF0470.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHClkZdO2z4kND_5wy4ZdbOODAP5WW7GiSlHQG2XwARk14DNuy0qriXa39GWKCeAHL4xFQP5SOBgqsucwdqGo3itlhz2Lp3kBwJeHQUGxgFRs6pBxtAB8pfsFoljfpXbK5rBZU4DSoj_Y/s320/DSCF0470.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016052556135859138" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />19. Forced Mike to eat a large Pizza.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbRhwK5ycCpgmKmM1Y5rubb6ChcwGdlwFtn4n7HJ-ng-7aymyYnHtAHJN7v_-OR7cABgVF4Qm1_tGAx0olMqFq4sGdcl37880i51-rTjJDcZayTf3I0xC_5eCbst6DAulWeasGJ9-Ulr4/s1600-h/Toss:Salad.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbRhwK5ycCpgmKmM1Y5rubb6ChcwGdlwFtn4n7HJ-ng-7aymyYnHtAHJN7v_-OR7cABgVF4Qm1_tGAx0olMqFq4sGdcl37880i51-rTjJDcZayTf3I0xC_5eCbst6DAulWeasGJ9-Ulr4/s320/Toss:Salad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016058526140400690" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />20. Waited for Mike to get a tattoo.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggntXVLj0TI_zaL_Kp02LmFYbwkIjeP8EC1TcVxTuZAfpENJ8CE6zlhDMwbK5Cghn6rZSzU6B0Yoaot9EblWD-Ak-V_Q981IX3wVgaUDD3i23uC2rrOndEtU9uFO4WiAVpQc46BxEbRnc/s1600-h/CBGB+Tattoo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggntXVLj0TI_zaL_Kp02LmFYbwkIjeP8EC1TcVxTuZAfpENJ8CE6zlhDMwbK5Cghn6rZSzU6B0Yoaot9EblWD-Ak-V_Q981IX3wVgaUDD3i23uC2rrOndEtU9uFO4WiAVpQc46BxEbRnc/s320/CBGB+Tattoo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016053698597159890" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />21. At the Chelsea hotel.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0u_Lr-mmoQuBdXNJY2bS8WeUj1yYIs00D0m3H6jSwfS33gHTuL1S3nMdTldO3o0cYdPEJIib9wCPjcPRKm1a9LmL2eN7KnMdh8DKcuF1p6f_3ZZ1rThcZmrD6Vjz4EWxk4eLZsp0Hh2I/s1600-h/ChelseaNY.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0u_Lr-mmoQuBdXNJY2bS8WeUj1yYIs00D0m3H6jSwfS33gHTuL1S3nMdTldO3o0cYdPEJIib9wCPjcPRKm1a9LmL2eN7KnMdh8DKcuF1p6f_3ZZ1rThcZmrD6Vjz4EWxk4eLZsp0Hh2I/s320/ChelseaNY.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016055743001592834" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />22. Ate at the best Diner in the City, Malibu on West 23rd St. mmm...heart attack!<br /><br />23.Celebrated our 3rd year anniversary at Spice Market restaurant in the Meat Packing District on New Years Eve. Super cool atmosphere, super bland food.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilyEcFEbbY3gHdW5huZu9xtSlZfNA5dL8WsFLkgQ9DhDIDgrAD5VDgx1ZqCtfVGzPw-mI7AF2_hvbB_QCgnWUWA1v6JNysv-BsziqwxgUv8IZhP_ad0gbNSgCElOl92YKVDmnrVhMgBJY/s1600-h/DSCF0482.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilyEcFEbbY3gHdW5huZu9xtSlZfNA5dL8WsFLkgQ9DhDIDgrAD5VDgx1ZqCtfVGzPw-mI7AF2_hvbB_QCgnWUWA1v6JNysv-BsziqwxgUv8IZhP_ad0gbNSgCElOl92YKVDmnrVhMgBJY/s320/DSCF0482.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016057091621323794" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />24. Paid $10 US for a bottle of Fiji Water. We had a choice between, "Pellegrino, Fiji or New York Tap". The waiter was a bit of a waz.<br /><br />25. But I looked great!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFOzEXKz8gV8RPTBCk8FIf8D8zl7EpCo0VFQ3lBMSpwtQItzR4SeVPz6OCKqXZqu2oDoS-syufO3WiPhnV4FITxNIWwa3jra5e5wAZYrirkrbIuxgHcQdBvr5VSfIM-q9Yf6ImZIv5n3g/s1600-h/DSCF0480.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFOzEXKz8gV8RPTBCk8FIf8D8zl7EpCo0VFQ3lBMSpwtQItzR4SeVPz6OCKqXZqu2oDoS-syufO3WiPhnV4FITxNIWwa3jra5e5wAZYrirkrbIuxgHcQdBvr5VSfIM-q9Yf6ImZIv5n3g/s320/DSCF0480.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016058045104063522" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />26. Celebrated New Years Eve at Paddy Reily's Pub.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWvxMnfsilh-muUze0pEBoKlgOQYEw-FO4cAUsS1_38Q_VVDBuFN0uYeDwrx89jNede00AJcYgYg32saJroXetFX0kcbCL8nEjx8lXqUHRqNKWLQGV8rZfalNUA-FGvjQ1Vb-Kwa53p3Y/s1600-h/Mike:Ness+Happy+2007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWvxMnfsilh-muUze0pEBoKlgOQYEw-FO4cAUsS1_38Q_VVDBuFN0uYeDwrx89jNede00AJcYgYg32saJroXetFX0kcbCL8nEjx8lXqUHRqNKWLQGV8rZfalNUA-FGvjQ1Vb-Kwa53p3Y/s320/Mike:Ness+Happy+2007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016059260579808322" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />27. Got up on a Rainy New Years Day and walked the shite out of the city.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXkSwedxTThcDhn3vCjFFswQjtR42Al-sadCxj9lzCJQLybIc7mRRwry9fpI2-5i3JmQULPVAdiWvC0b-mL7tEblw5vnWFqJKc36gr8M46OWXEVbfBqyJYMBUrFhmWph7Rh5OnmmapLWA/s1600-h/Mike:Times+Square:Rain.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXkSwedxTThcDhn3vCjFFswQjtR42Al-sadCxj9lzCJQLybIc7mRRwry9fpI2-5i3JmQULPVAdiWvC0b-mL7tEblw5vnWFqJKc36gr8M46OWXEVbfBqyJYMBUrFhmWph7Rh5OnmmapLWA/s320/Mike:Times+Square:Rain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016060411631043682" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />28. Loved every minute of it.<br /><br />29. Ate some of the best pastry EVER. Probably gained about 5 pounds in 3 days.<br /><br />30. Had our flight cancelled from New York to Detroit 20 minutes before boarding, due to "weather". Our flight was the ONLY flight to be cancelled in the entire New York area. Was told the next flight was not until the next morning at 6AM. Thank God we had insurance. EVERY flight out to Toronto was sold out.<br /><br />31. Thanks to RBC we stayed at the Marriott Laguardia, had prime rib for dinner, bought all the snacks and magazines we could get, and made a bunch of phone calls home and had the best shower we had in 3 days.<br /><br />32. All at the expense of RBC.<br /><br />33. Learned early on that Northwest Airlines is THE WORST AIRLINE EVER.<br /><br />34. Boarded our flight on Tuesday at 6AM, bound for Toronto via Minneapolis, Minnesota.<br /><br />35. Northwest Airlines is THE WORST AIRLINE EVER.<br /><br />36. Made it home 20 hours after we were originally scheduled too.<br /><br />37. Made it through customs without having to claim my shoes!!! YAY!!!<br /><br />38. Fell in Love with this guy all over again. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJLIfC2rvjPIuXkvv1z5dNp6wbz9vHQQKN_sgGqtMe7uXgKhenFWjuNQ28jJaA54RnSm1pspcrswq-898PHOmSrc0ns7AgkiS3deCEWZmrCQl29zduqqZ5MZQIByQtn4nfXC9jCSRZFg/s1600-h/DSCF0429.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJLIfC2rvjPIuXkvv1z5dNp6wbz9vHQQKN_sgGqtMe7uXgKhenFWjuNQ28jJaA54RnSm1pspcrswq-898PHOmSrc0ns7AgkiS3deCEWZmrCQl29zduqqZ5MZQIByQtn4nfXC9jCSRZFg/s320/DSCF0429.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016064298576446578" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />39. Had the best time EVER.<br /><br />40. Here's to 2007<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgajoYEMndZ7mqfYpf9eQRNUw1fBji_bVLR_HESQx7ngP9BJIi8ZAOSwZqpRQ1Blu3MwadGWYu45IGjYlAfvakz5HE1UaCHjIWOAWU1_CIxCBRsoxkAGJicQDjVAiiXddSJMzL7eghqbkQ/s1600-h/DSCF0498.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgajoYEMndZ7mqfYpf9eQRNUw1fBji_bVLR_HESQx7ngP9BJIi8ZAOSwZqpRQ1Blu3MwadGWYu45IGjYlAfvakz5HE1UaCHjIWOAWU1_CIxCBRsoxkAGJicQDjVAiiXddSJMzL7eghqbkQ/s320/DSCF0498.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016064801087620226" border="0" /></a>Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-84245633498640461762006-12-13T22:16:00.000-05:002008-12-09T00:15:10.102-05:00Bootlegger Ham<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqs2ck0I_W7NFazlENP_rmuiHk3pkYGHDMbLz3OiiHDq3lGK8mpJg-ExtNvtlZFyN3YCZbqOw6kX6fipfDTioBoJEbDzTa8LP4clNMcLuoxd6P6YedJLHxr5YU99a-hZRJVas4LunpS2M/s1600-h/bootleggertradition.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqs2ck0I_W7NFazlENP_rmuiHk3pkYGHDMbLz3OiiHDq3lGK8mpJg-ExtNvtlZFyN3YCZbqOw6kX6fipfDTioBoJEbDzTa8LP4clNMcLuoxd6P6YedJLHxr5YU99a-hZRJVas4LunpS2M/s320/bootleggertradition.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008217414649443250" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My Cousin sent this to me the other day. She cut it out from the Charlottetown news paper; "The Guardian".<br />Yes Folks, this is where I am from...a place that has a bootlegger reunion.<br />Most people from the Island read this and said,"only in PEI". Really though, no matter where you are from or live, every town has something like this. The difference with this, however, is I bet this entire reunion was planned through the "Bootlegger Committee" at the Charlottetown Detox Centre.<br />Can you just imagine the crowd of people that would be at this swanky event? I wonder what you would wear to an event like this? I'm thinking something VERY tight, like jeans that were so tight they give you the best "camel toe" and the "muffin tin" effect. Just to ensure you get lucky.<br />And people ask me if I would ever move back. Soon...real soon. (Before December 2ND 2007 anyway, there is NO WAY I'm missing the 3rd annual reunion)Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-43722152890282789202006-12-06T22:38:00.000-05:002008-12-09T00:15:10.389-05:00Pickled Rack Of Ham<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPt9SSk0GnkBBnsRdFfFCGj9CRZ2Z-4W7I-MHXk3M9dMy8ByHNmw16agG6aZyyBEgais9Ac0dM2_Hdx-h9nlfpE_1gRIiK8EN8YAM9cz4CUTWvfgwXFVaACcXauQntPBAkQyV_5FWEQw/s1600-h/11561W.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPt9SSk0GnkBBnsRdFfFCGj9CRZ2Z-4W7I-MHXk3M9dMy8ByHNmw16agG6aZyyBEgais9Ac0dM2_Hdx-h9nlfpE_1gRIiK8EN8YAM9cz4CUTWvfgwXFVaACcXauQntPBAkQyV_5FWEQw/s320/11561W.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5005627103176038242" /></a><br />What's your favorite smell? Is it Kosher Dill Pickles? What?!? NO? It's not?!?! Well, its not mine either! But some people would be surprised at that answer. Some people as in my Mike...<br />Sundays are "our" day. Its the one day in the week that is for us. Neither of us work that day, so its spent doing things around the city, like going to the market, shopping, and just hanging out. Its also the night we actually go to bed at the same time-usually. Last sunday, I went into bed a little earlier then himself. He came in about 20 minutes later. I heard him getting ready, brushing his teeth, washing his face, etc...then I heard him in the kitchen, rattling around. <br />Eventually he gets into bed and I turn over to get a cuddle. Suddenly I am PUNCHED IN THE FACE WITH THE STENCH OF KOSHER DILLS!!!<br />Who the fuck eats 2 kosher dills AFTER brushing their teeth and BEFORE getting into bed!!!! HOLY LORD!!! What a whiffy fucker he can be!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMGTgxf0oaSfiR64VfLZbPpRNPGqmebzebUvDUx4_46vRSY3mLUmmOV8Y5pQ9i_-zw5Apb6mAQo2oXLDaCY1CEWhaGGmp5LdB4rQGo69rA7u6_ou565BA8r74A-GVQBnfCPREqgMot3o/s1600-h/rack-lamb.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMGTgxf0oaSfiR64VfLZbPpRNPGqmebzebUvDUx4_46vRSY3mLUmmOV8Y5pQ9i_-zw5Apb6mAQo2oXLDaCY1CEWhaGGmp5LdB4rQGo69rA7u6_ou565BA8r74A-GVQBnfCPREqgMot3o/s320/rack-lamb.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5005634610778871666" /></a>On to another completly diffrent subject now. As some of you may know, I work as travel agent (or travel "consultant" as we say, to make us feel more important) I get really strange requests all the time. But today, this guy topped them all!<br />He first asked me what part of the plane is the best to sit if it crashes. What the hell kind of question is that? The answer is, No part of the plane! Then he asked me what kind of food Air Canada would be serving on his flight from Toronto to Vancouver. I told him that it would be food to purchase and free snacks. He seemed shocked by my answer. Now, if he was an 80 year old man who hasn't flown in over 20 years, I would understand, but he was 28 and told me yesterday that he fly's all the time. <br />He asked me if he was willing to pay, could he have a special meal for his flight. I asked him if he meant something like a diabetic meal? Yes, exactly, he said. I was 99% sure the answer was no, but I called Air Canada anyway. As my call was in Q I said to him; So diabetic, right? No, he said. A RACK OF LAMB. I almost shit my pants off, and started laughing.Not him though, he was stone faced. I couldn't even get my words out to the woman at Air Canada. Finally I managed to ask her. After waiting a good 30 seconds until she got her pants back on, the answer was; He will have to bring his own rack of lamb on his flight from Toronto to Vancouver. I hope with all my hope he does! I wish I had to fly to Vancouver that day too!Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-78884929002862204122006-11-30T22:56:00.000-05:002006-12-02T23:29:28.457-05:00Ham Brawl<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/294/196055186483789/1600/949478/main_thumb.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/294/196055186483789/320/406343/main_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I CANNOT believe what happened to me on the subway tonight while I was on my way home from work!<br />I got on and sat down on a forward facing seat. I noticed a VERY FAT Chinese woman sitting at the end of the car facing me. She had a lot bags with her. <br />I was sitting there minding my own business and I notice this woman coming towards me with all her bags. I had my ipod on and I had the music pretty loud so I was kinda distracted by that. This woman was putting her "stuff" on the seat behind me.<br />-Then suddenly I am thrown forward and I feel a pain in my neck!! It took me a second to realize what just happened....<br />This woman has just elbowed me in the neck with full force!!! I was so shocked and a bit confused...<br />I turned around and she was acting like NOTHING had just happened. So I thought that perhaps she has so much cushioning on her arms she didn't feel herself nearly knock me out...so I sat back and she started nudging me with her elbow on my back!! <br />Still in shock, I turned around and and grabbed her arm and shoved it, and told her to F the hell off!!! And she still acted like nothing was happening.<br />I was feeling such a range of emotions, I didn't know if I was going to start to cry, or ground and pound this CRAAAAZY freak of nature!<br />Then!!!!!!! she went to elbow me AGAIN!!!!!! But I was leaning forward and she missed...then thankfully a man came to my rescue and told the woman to get the hell of the train before he called security!! She understood that! She got off right away!!<br />This is by far one of the most strangest things to have ever happen to me! And WHY ME? Did she deliberately pick me out, out of EVERYONE on the train to come and elbow me in the neck!?!?!?!<br /><br />I felt so violated and strangely embarrassed. What is the best way to react in situations like that? And when everyone on the subway is staring at you?!<br />Who the hell does something like that? And this woman was old...well, mom old...like in her 50's!!! WHAT A SERIOUS PAIN IN THE NECK!Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-29208891530385468322006-11-28T22:47:00.000-05:002006-12-02T23:32:18.314-05:00Lazy Ham<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/294/196055186483789/1600/106864/baby_savtime.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/294/196055186483789/320/34301/baby_savtime.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I don't know how well this blog thing is going. I'm finding it hard to think of stuff to write about. <br />This is my third attempt, maybe its because I'm really tired, I just woke-up after passing out on the couch. Only after eating Chinese food I got delivered-I was to lazy to make dinner. Actually I don't know if I was to lazy to make dinner or if I was to lazy to do the dishes in order to make dinner...both I guess.<br /><br />Speaking of doing the dishes, how do you "do" the dishes? Do you have a methodical way of doing them? Glasses first, then plates then the really gross stuff, like the pots and pans? Or do you do them like my Mike and just pile them in the sink as they come, then pile them on the drying rack and have a competition with yourself to see how high you can pile them before something crashes and breaks one of your favourite wine glasses...but still feel like it was all worth because that pile you just made was a new record?<br />I hate doing the dishes more then any other house hold chore-HATE IT. But when I do them, I do them good. But I'd rather put up with my Mike's dish piling self competition, then do them myself.<br /><br />I was late for work today because when my alarm went off ( I use my mobile for my alarm) I was in that half awake, half asleep, really stupid state and I was dreaming that my phone was actually a Caramilk bar that was making really nice music. So I put in on the floor and went back to sleep for another 45 minutes....this is my excuse for staying lazy for the day.<br /><br />I'm going to bed now, without doing the dishes.Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1606084087675199782.post-57678211655505737942006-11-24T22:24:00.000-05:002006-11-24T23:09:00.733-05:00Its me.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/294/196055186483789/1600/277044/a6_1_sbl.JPG.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/294/196055186483789/320/474565/a6_1_sbl.JPG.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Hello Hams!<br />My name is <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Moxy</span> <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ness</span>. I don't know what to say just yet, my boyfriend talked me into doing this. I am a little afraid of writing a blog because I don't want to bore people to tears, I promise it will get better.<br />I'm trying to butter him up so he will buy me these shoes for Christmas. I NEED these shoes, they are Christian <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Louboutins</span> for those of you who didn't know.<br />I've wanted them for 3 years now. I ALMOST bought them at Brown Thomas in Dublin when we were there on vacation 3 years ago. But it was the <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">beginning</span> of our stay and I was afraid we would be <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">completely</span> out of funds by the next week if I bought them, 550 euros was not an expense we budgeted for! I have dreamed of them ever since, so many outfits were just not complete without these shoes. Alas! We are going to New York this New Year's and finally, my Christian <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Louboutins</span> will be where they are <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">meant</span> to be...on MY feet!<br /> It is hard to justify spending about the same amount on shoes as we do on rent per month, but do you know how good I'll look taking the rent cheque down to the rental office?Moxy Nesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12961897468320550836noreply@blogger.com13