Day 572: I Wonder About Room Service

I spend quite a lot of time in hotels for two reasons:

Reason One: Work

I am a hot-shot advertising strategy planner 'type' who works in Toronto half of the week, and Montreal the other half. As I live in Montreal (ish), when I am working in Toronto I must stay in an hotel.

Luckily, one of our clients owns a string of 'boutique hotels', featuring marble baths enclosed in glass, 102 different varieties of towel, Aveda 'toiletries'*, and a room service menu featuring something described as a Berkshire Pork Tourtière with Glazed Turnips. It really is a home-from-home!

Reason Two: "Le Fun"**

When I am not at home or away working, I live an exciting and luxurious jetset holiday weekend break lifestyle with my 'partner', an acclaimed veterinary research pathologist famous for not only his scientific endeavours (including an attempt to re-introduce the walrus to the St Lawrence river), but also for his ability to cut his own hair and win four episodes of Jeopardy (Quebec version) in a row.

We had some very noisy neighbours in the hotel in which we were staying last weekend, including some modern parents who allowed their child to 'pipe up' regularly (and encouraged him so to do in loud rough voices), and who seemed very much to enjoy blowing their noses very loudly and tooting on red plastic horns. So tiresome were they that when the pathologist idly suggested 'amending' their breakfast order, only then hanging proudly from their door and almost certainly full of ticks on the 'sugary kid snacks' boxes, we gave it serious consideration.

We talked about it quite a lot (pros/cons; would it be funny/wouldn't it be funny; legal/not legal; would the hotel charge them for the kidneys if they couldn't prove they hadn't ordered them, etc), but we didn't do it in the end, partly because we couldn't agree what the most annoying thing would be to add.

Later that afternoon, whilst watching an amateur dog agility competition on ice, we came to a partial conclusion. Here are our results, based on our analysis. Let me know what you think.

Best Single Item To Find Accidentally Included On Your Breakfast Tray

Me: A sausage
Him: A chocolate muffin.

Worst Single Item To Be Accidentally Included On Your Breakfast Tray

Me: Grapefruit juice
Him: TBC.

Please note: for the WORST things, it's not about getting something you don't like; it's something that's fine, that you'll probably eat because it's free. No, it's the disappointment of getting a free thing that, if it were only a tiny bit different, would be something you really liked (e.g. orange juice).


* Surely one of the worst words in the world.
** Quebecois French for "fun"

Day 568: I Am At Work!!!

It is great! On my first day I got loads of free stuff (e.g. computers, telephones, desk lamps, pencils, $750 of free acupuncture and tax relief), and people have been being nice to me for nearly four days.

Everywhere there is helpfulness: when you travel, someone organises your aeroplanes and hotels (which contain rooms with their own separate bathroom). Other people answer questions about for e.g. how often French Canadians have sex vs. the Rest of Canada without thinking you are weird. Everyone is nice AND clever (it is a Canadian thing), whilst also being good at irony (also a Canadian thing - in most cases).

At lunchtime I go and walk 'two blocks up the street' and buy soup and eat it and think and look out of the window, then before I know it is time to go home. Yesterday, someone said: "We don't want you to DO anything. We just want you to think."

This morning, someone said it was very important for me to go to New York for a conversation. It is astonishing. But not as astonishing as the fact that in addition to and on top of all of this, I get paid money! This work thing is perhaps not so bad after all. It is definitely better in Canada than it is in England, that is for sure.

Coming soon: Who would win in a fight, Canada or the UK? Hurry - don't delay - send in your categories today! (E.g. media/space/weather/attractiveness of people, etc)

Day 561: I Resort To Speed-O-Blog

As I am still recovering from a near-death experience in yesterday's snowstorm (note for British readers: a 'severe weather warning' involves 35cm of snow in 24 hours, temperatures of minus 14, 90mph winds, freezing rain, gritters, snowploughs and sleet, not minus 4 and 1cm of snow in the Lothians), I will be brief. ("Thank the sweet Lord for the gift of mercy!", I hear you cry.)

As usual, I have cock-all of any import to say, and a couple of questions:

Question 1: Debbie Macomber

For reasons too strange to relate, I need to know if you are aware of the novels of Debbie Macomber. You can look at her website here. If you like her, why do you like her? And are you a Christian? (She cures hypertension, apparently.)

This Made Me Laugh So Much I Squirted

It is the very brilliant radio show, This American Life, and it is an episode called The Super. Watch out for the snowman.

Question 2: Vibrators and other 'marital aids'

Would you ever buy a vibrator and/or other 'marital aids' in a supermarket, if they were in 'discreet packaging' and stocked in the same place as the condoms and lubricants?

The New Web-blog

The other blog I write for, A Lard Off My Mind, is 'going great guns', as the vicar's wife might say about the Church Roof Fund.

You may like it. It is not whingey, it contains photographs of Millionaire's Shortbread, and the other three people who write for it are funny and interesting.

Sweary People-Descriptors

Regular readers will be aware of last weekend's post, in which I try to rank sweary person-descriptors. My list will, however, be revised in the next few days following excellent suggestions from readers, including douchebag, cockmonkey, prick and spastic. (It is not too late to add some of your own.)

Cat News

Regular readers will be aware of my view of cats (they must be exterminated), and of my cat Monster in particular. (Incidentally, he still needs a home; he's yours if you want him.)

However, it has been brought to my attention that some people like cats, and in particular, photographs of fat cats in foolish poses. I therefore bring you, as a special Saturday afternoon treat, some photographs of one of the cats with which I currently share a house. Yes, here she is: it is Corndog - almost as fat as Monster, much prettier, but still - sady - a cat.



































Question 3: Are The Quebecois The Worst Drivers In Canada?

Why, when the roads are icy, visibility is about 10ft, the snow is horizontal, gigantic trucks travelling at 200mph are kicking up slush that covers your windscreen, and the wind is blowing at 90mph, do drivers in Quebec drive like fucking lunatics, including:

1. Changing lanes fast, into very small gaps, without indicating
2. Overtaking on the outside lane
3. Getting so close behind you you can't see their headlights in your rear view mirror
4. Swooping up behind you until you get out of the way, even if you have nowhere to move to.

It makes me sick with terror every time, and also explains why, on a mile-long stretch of the 640, there were three cars and one lorry either upside down or on their sides. I hate it. Does everyone in Canada drive like that, or is it just the French-Canadians? (This is a serious question!! I cannot believe I am asking it in a serious style, but the fact remains that I do actually want to know the answer.)

(I should also point out that I live with a Quebecois chap who not only won four episodes of Quebec Jeopardy, but is also a very good driver.)

I Am Considering Employing The Services Of An Interior Decorator

Many times have I passed the roadside store of Phillipe Dagenais, interior designer and style icon. Based on these two photographs, do you think I should put our palatial Canadian home to his perfectly-manicured hands?
























I Am Legal

Tomorrow I go to the border to 'activate' my work permit. I am now legal and officially allowed to be in Canada; more to the point, I am officially allowed to work.

From next Tuesday, therefore, I will once again be working full-time; but despite the fact that I will be literally working, I will, as always, remain non-working in my heart.

Day 556: I Offer Up A New Web-Blog For Your Enjoyment (If You Are A Porker)

Debate continues to rage unchecked in the comments box of Saturday's post, in which I attempt to define and rank sweary person-descriptors (e.g., is "twat" worse than "idiot", and would you rather be called a "cunt" or a "cretin" behind your back?).

I will be returning to the subject in the next day or so in order to take into consideration recent submissions, including "douchebag" and "fuckwit", but in the meantime you may enjoy a little joint venture I have entered into with my esteemed friends
Katy, Anna and Wendy.

"And what is the nature of this venture?", I hear you cry. "Does it contain drawings of mansticks you have known, or perhaps pictures of cakes?". No, my friends, it does not. It is about weight loss.

I am well aware of the fact that the subject of 'weight loss' features fairly high in list of "Blog Topics That Make Me Want To Vomit"; in fact, my top 10 Blog Topics That Make Me Want To Vomit list (which is scrawled in the back of my much-fingered copy of Ulysses), looks like this:

1. Being a 'Mommy'
2. Teenage angst
3. My depression
4. I have been dumped
5. Weight loss
6. Politics (if ill-informed)
7. Sex
8. How to knit fruit
9. My (really fucking bad) photographs
10. My life

But in this case it is different, because this weight loss blog is not wanky-whingey defensive old bollocks that cocks on about how stupid all men are for not all wanting to play hide-the-sausage with the "larger lady". No no. Nor is it self-pitying. (Impossible, as all the people involved in the blog are hotter than a mosquito's tweeter; just a bit porky. At the moment.)

It is called A Lard Off My Mind, and you might like it - whether you are a porker or not!

Day 554: I Try To Rank Sweary Person-Descriptors

I have been inspired by dear Wendy over at her web-blog It's A Life, who has been wondering whether or not she is a dork.

I do not think she is, but that is another matter. Pressing more on my tiny monkey mind is what 'dork' means and where it stands in the ranking of sweary person-descriptors, leading - inevitably - to an attempt to define the other sweary person-descriptors in common usage.

(Oh, and when I say that contributions and comments are welcome, I mean it. For once.)

Twat

Reckons themselves a bit. Does or says stupid things, and not entirely unintenionally, i.e. the action that resulted in the person being called a 'twat' could have been averted at some level. Not malicious, but not entirely without blame either.

Better dressed than a fuckwit (see below), but not as well dressed as a cunt (see below).

Bitch

When used by a woman about another woman, usually implies manipulative and able to, without so much as a by-your-leave, to do the dirty on another lady in order to get what she wants. Has at least one pair of 'sexy' shoes, even if they cost £4.99 from Shoe Express.

When used by a man, means 'girlfriend' (my own label of choice!)

Cow

Like bitch, but the lady in question is slightly older, more bitter, and endlessly mean for the sake of it, probably because she was jilted at the altar twenty years ago in favour of her better looking younger sister.

Wears comfortable shoes and smells a bit of wee.

Idiot

Usually used to describe occasional behaviour, e.g. "you were an idiot".

Usually the result of something annoyingly preventable, e.g. leaving the freezer door open or having a small crash in your mother-in-law's car; often the only people to suffer are the idiots themselves.

Fuckwit

Fuckwits are like idiots, except the result of their actions usually costs more (e.g. leaving the back door open vs. leaving the freezer door open), or inconvenience a greater number of people (e.g. cocking on about sorting out the holiday, getting to the airport and then finding out that you've left all the tickets at home and your passport's out of date).

Note: not malicious; just thoughtless (bordering on selfish).

Wanker

Male bitch.

Cock

Relentlessly irritating. Goes on and on. Bad suits. Likes R.E.O. Speedwagon and drives a BMW 3-Series. Will never be cool, however hard he tries.

Cretin

My brother.

Cunt

Capable of doing terrible things. Entirely untrustworthy, disingenuous, manipulative, self-serving and awful, but often highly intelligent and worthy of grudging respect. Often extremely well-dressed.

If someone hated me, I would want them to describe me as a cunt.

Dork

A sweet geek; doesn't realise that their occasional awkwardness is endearing. Probably has a girlfriend or boyfriend.

Geek

Bill Gates, but without the money. May not have a boyfriend or girlfriend. (People in good shoes saying "Oh I'm such a GEEK" when showing off their iPod Touch to a room full of unimpressed ladies are not geeks; they are twats.)

Asshole

This is an American term that is, to my mind, a relentless combination of twat, cunt and wanker. Any illumination from Americans who have a good knowledge of British English (or vice-versa) would be gratefully received.

I am sure there are more, and I am sure I will re-write this post one hundred times, but for the time being I would rank them thus (starting with the baddest):

1. Cunt
[Asshole]
2. Wanker/Bitch
3. Cow/Twat
4. Twat
5. Cock
6. Cretin
7. Idiot
8. Geek
9. Dork

I, for example, and am idiot.