Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Nice girls do so swallow. And other references to wine tasting so not to scare you off.

I was lying in bed just now thinking about Galileo's telescope, which is such a big fat lie because I don't really give a shit about Galileo's telescope and until I turned on my computer had no clue it was the 400th anniversary of his "slim, brown stick" as one reporter called it (which naturally made me, just now, think in another direction altogether). Oh, the mind works in mysterious ways. Or not at all.

What I was truly, honestly lying in bed thinking about, was how I had absolutely nothing whatsoever to write about, especially after the Runner emailed me last night to comment on how yesterday's spew of filth about Hurricane Bill contained several references to boners and blow jobs, and how someone's 100-year old grandma reads this shit. I think she was telling me to clean it up, but then the Runner said she had read it twice so I thought, "Who's the sicko here?" and maybe she's just experiencing a runner's low, or her fat content had dropped dangerously below 6%, or her nipples were sore from chafing, or maybe she's just pissed because I haven't taken her cupcake or veal tasting lately, and I really must, because aside from her obsessive running and her daily running tally on what a disgusting, foul-mouth pig I am, she's okay.

I guess I'll be hearing from her today because, can I tell you what a fright I had last week when I went to the can, and after reading the entire local newspaper from cover-to-cover in under two minutes, I was about to wipe my ass with the Arts & Life section to get my 50 cents worth, when I suddenly looked in the bowl – and upon seeing red – realized I had asshole cancer and was going to die! But then it dawned on me that I had eaten a tub of beet salad from Planet Organic and phew, man, those beets hang around just long enough that you forget you've eaten them and get a real mortality wake-up call.

Beets, despite scaring the crap out of me, are my favourite of all root vegetables. Once, I dyed all of my white t-shirts and stuff purple, using beet juice as dye – hey, I was young and likely stoned, don't judge me. Beets are life's little reminder that everyday, even the crappiest days, are a gift. Now I choff, snort, and chortle at that Hallmark notion but it's true, so listen the fuck up. I feel like I should be swaying with a wine glass in one hand and a smoke in the other when I say, "listen the fuck up" all the while sloshing red wine like beet juice all over my jammies.

How's that for my segue into wine and it's not even 6:22. Blow job. (Had to throw that in for the Runner.)

So, listen up all you wine loving, beet eaters. There's an event coming up of great importance (I just typed impotence, which is a limp dick reference, so half a point) and I think we should all go because it's for thyroid cancer and well, I cannot tell you how much that disease pisses me off because I am forced to drink wine alone most nights because of thyroid cancer, and way more important is that 3 sweet boys have no mom to tuck them in at night because of thyroid cancer – so, on September 19th, the QE2 Interdisciplinary Thyroid Oncology Clinic party animals are throwing a Wine Tasting and Silent Auction to raise funds for clinical tools, and we are going goddammit.

The wine tasting part is covered, but these dedicated folks, who never talk about blow jobs, are looking for quality items for their silent auction. Now, I've been to enough hockey auctions and other types of silent auctions to know that one man's "quality" item is another man's piece of crap they couldn't unload at a yard sale – so let's help Chris Nolan and make him feel taller by donating some really good shit that people can get drunk and bid on and raise some money.

If you would like to participate, email Chris at cnolan@zeiss.com. Stuff like cars and precious jewels and golf clubs and flowers and trips south will be accepted, so no problem if you need items picked up. Think outside the box and donate things like face lifts and teeth whitening and golf lessons and blow jobs and one hour of free therapy or theatre tickets or your cottage for a long weekend in February. No decent items will be refused.

Thyroid cancer is sadly on the rise which truly sucks, and while there's an awesome vulgar lead- in here, I'll leave it at that. Life is funny and precious, and while cliché, can turn on a dime. Today's beets could be tomorrow's asshole cancer, so please donate something, live for the moment, stop and smell the roses, hug your child and all that shit, because it's so important.

Blow job.

halifaxbroad@gmail.com

Planet Organic at 6487 Quinpool Road has great, fresh daily salads and healthy lunch items and they don't cost a fortune. Just remember you ate them.

For tickets to the wine tasting or if you are interested in donating to the silent auction email Chris at cnolan@zeiss.com. If have any immediate questions or want to make a sizable corporate donation you could also contact Anne Hiltz at Anne.Hiltz@cdha.nshealth.ca or by phone at (902) 473-5630. Thank you.