Gerard J. Butler's Grin (has been John C. Mayer'ed)

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This post is John C. Mayer-ing Gerard J. Butler. It's all Aunt Becky's fault over at Mommy Wants Vodka.

So Gerard J. Butler is a fantabulous actor fellow who had acted in movies such as:

• How to Train Your Dragon   (I was hoping this was racy, but apparently it is children's animation. Bummer)
• The Bounty Hunter   (Totally on the library wait list for this one. I love me my Gerard J. Butler, and my Team Aniston)
• Law Abiding Citizen (Gerard J. Butler was very very angry in this one. I saw Gerard J. Butler act in this one while taking a flight to Winnipeg)
• Gamer
• The Ugly Truth
• Tales of the Black Freighter
• RocknRolla   (Also totally and completely on the library wait list for this Gerard J. Butler film)
• Nim's Island
• P.S. I Love You   (You know what Gerard J. Butler? I love you, too)
• The Butterfly
• 300   (Never did watch it - seemed to me there was a lot of blood involved)
• Beowulf & Grendel  (Nothin to do with Beyonce)
• The Game of Their Lives
• The Phantom of the Opera

IF YOU WANT TO UNDERSTAND JUST WHAT THE HECK I AM UP TO WITH THIS POST, YOU HAVE TO TALK TO AUNT BECKY HERE. IT'S ANOTHER BLOGGER'S IDEA I NEED YOU TO UNDERSTAND, SO YOU DON'T THINK THIS IS WHAT MY BLOG CONSISTS OF!!!
 
I have P.S. I Love You, featuring Gerard J. Butler, sitting right here in front of me, just begging to be watched before I return it late to the library and pay a fine, then curse myself for renting these movies complimentarily (new word?) from the public library instead of taking myself to Blockbuster and just paying the reduced one-night rental fee. Gerard J. Butler is worth it, right?

But I need freedom. One night with him might not be enough. Sometimes he needs time to breathe in his DVD case. Other times, he must be viewed and admired and sought after via DVD immediately. To look at his cute grin is always charming. Even if Gerard J. Butler was kind of a jerk in The Ugly Truth. The thing is - Gerard J. Butler dictates when I should be watching his movies or adoring his grin. I can't help it, it is up to him.

To learn more about Gerard J. Butler, you could always visit his Wikipedia page here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gerard_Butler


Being Canadian, I was quite pleased to learn that he spent the first 'few years of his life' in Montreal, Quebec (Canada for you international followers). So that makes him sort of one of us. For a few short Gerard J. Butler years.

His grin is something like this, but less furry and more endearing:

Gerard J. Butler has an adorable grin.

According to the Daily Record,
Gerard J. Butler "has also told how a childhood infection left him flashing a wonky grin. The Hollywood heart-throb was just 10 years old when he had surgery to cure crippling ear pain.

Butler revealed he still suffers ringing in his head, hearing loss and has a dodgy smile - 30 years after the op.

He said: "When I was younger, I looked like I had a stroke. Because my mind sometimes feels like it's melted down, I'd think, 'Maybe I did have a stroke.' That would sure explain a lot of things." "

How could you not love Gerard J. Butler after reading that? I know some people very close to me that have afflictions that have caused their features to alter slightly. I love them more for it. And I also love him more for it, as well.

Gerard J. Butler is great. He is talented. He was a lawyer before he was fired from his job. He was not one to be held down by 'THE MAN'. No. Gerard J. Butler instead chose to outlet his creativity and soul through the art of acting.

Gerard J. Butler is a trooper - a survivor.

I wonder if he would like my dresses? Or if he would condone my diet? If he is friends with other celebrities such as John C. Mayer or Michael Bublé?

I wonder if he does his own grocery shopping.

Gerard J. Butler rules. I think that he would enjoy this post. I am most certain that Gerard J. Butler's publicist would be happy to read my love for him. I wonder if he is married? He is such a mysterious character, he is. I don't know that I will ever really know the true Gerard J. Butler.

I have a feeling this is totally going to backfire. I love you Google.

EDIT: YAY! I figured out my error and actually made page 1!

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The Reacharound

Let me begin by saying that this post has nothing to do with prison, nor the love of two men.

I was in the grocery store today, doing my thing, on a hunt for okra because I decided to go to the closest grocery store to my place of employment that might have okra. So this was new territory for me. I wandered, shivering in the A/C, looking for my okra.


I found it in the farthest back corner of the store, and was quite pleased. I am sure my smile looked maniacal. (Trust me people, there is such little I can eat). The man beside me looked, quite frankly, a little afraid.

At first I thought it must have been my maniacal smile. Then I realized I probably looked really really strange rifling through the pre-pakaged vegetables on the highest shelf looking for the freshest ones.

Am I the only one who does this (besides my mother)?

The ole reacharound? A little rifling? A check to find the best shizz?

Those store owners and stock boys know a thing or two. They know if they put the good, fresh ___________ (fill in the blank) at the front, that the shittier stuff will never be purchased. So, in my youth, my mother taught me the invaluable reacharound, in order to get to the best shizz hidden at the back.

Not to be trusted.

I'm sure I looked like an idiot, moving things around, comparing the best 3 out of 4 packages of freakin' okra. And I studied them fiercely, make no mistake.

I've never actually seen okra fresh and/or wholly green like this.

 Then I thought - I need to make this a post and see if I am the only one who does this.

This goes for bread for BF, milk, yogurt, even sneakily stacked apples and random produce. At least being on the taller side allows me to reach places that shorter, elderly people can't.

Then I had an attack of conscience. Am I somehow jumping the line of fresh food entitled-ness? Am I altering the balance of the universe by circumventing standard purchasing procedures? Will I screw myself out of okra because the guy at Longo's will be all like "hmm... looks like this stuff isn't moving... all we have are these nasty super-moldy ones left" (as opposed to the slightly-less moldy ones I was able to secure).

It's usually somewhere between there and here (but closer to here). Did I mention I am allergic to mould?

Am I wrong? More diabolical?

Just sayin'.

___________

seriously really seriously blog

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Sequins & Malnourishment... Not so bad?

Okay, so I was at my parent's house this past Friday after taking my pup to a good vet.

My mother has a tendency to hang on to things. Not to the extend of Hoarders on A&E or anything, but I definitely learned from her.

That is why ghosts of dresses past can be found in the downstairs closet. I am quite sure I asked her to save some (many, all) of them, but just didn't bring them with me when I moved here. There are old bridesmaid dresses, evening gowns, various gorgeous dresses I had no place to wear but just had to have, athletic banquet dresses. Even a prom dress. And more!!! Yes, more!

I am certain there is also a 70s polyester jumpsuit in there I am dying to learn how to sew back together so I can blow a Halloween party's mind.

I digress.

For the hell of it, mom asked me if I wanted any of the dresses before she donated them.

So I thought I would try them on once more for old time's sake, we would laugh at the ill fit, and off they would go.

Now this is me, in one of my past stages of overly-thinness, on prom night with my date (I couldn't find the one with Steve anywhere... I lost all my photo albums but one, WTF?) dancing on stage with my friends who I shall use pseudonyms for (Cammie and Gloo):

Pretty sure you can see my skeletal legs in there. And I know, I know, my face is covered, but it IS me.

Here's one with my mug, and again, friends who shall be protected with MS Paint boxes over their faces. We will call them Cammie and Jlenn.

Look at that mother effing hair.

For shiggles sake, I tried on the prom dress again. AND.IT.FIT. Holy shit. This torturous, joyless diet does, in fact, seem to have an upside......

I realized that in order to get the true effect, I would have to simulate my prom-night hair, so I gave it my best shot:

Man, I wish I still had my sample photo of what I wanted my hair to look like, so everyone wouldn't just assume I wanted to look like the bride of Frankenstein that night. And I even went to that expensive Gallupi's! Damn it. I bet you an entire can of hairspray was used, and I depleted them of their entire supply of bobby pins.

So after this chuckle (and elation, I won't lie, the last time this dress fit me I was: underage, drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade in a downtown parking lot, in my date's Chevette at the age of 18). I couldn't believe it fit. I was mentally tallying who may or may not have a spur-of-the-moment wedding this fall that I could potentially squeeze one last dress-wearing in for.

But folks, it gets better. And by better, I mean more disturbing, more fuschia, and more sequined.

While mom was getting ready to head out, I found my old gem of a grade 8 graduation dress. That baby would sparkle on a moonless night. A big, badass fuschia bow at the back. (Ahahaha anything fuschia can't be badass, can it? I think it goes against all the laws of nature). I even went strapless for this grand 12-year-old event!

I remember trying on dresses in the only fancy dress store we knew of in the Eaton Mall at the time. I really wanted this gorgeous forest green Victorian-type dress, but it was over $300 (which was ridiculous for us at the time) and it required a crinoline. A bit much for the passage from elementary school to secondary school. I didn't even have boobs.

So instead, I sadly settled on the fuschia number. The price was right, and I knew damn well that no other girl would be wearing the same dress, either because of better common sense, the fact that most parents were absurdly prudish and wouldn't allow strapless, or because.. well, it was the only one there.

1992 Ladies & Gentlemen:

Flair for the dramatic? Whahh? You mean black gloves aren't the norm for grade 8 graduation?

Check out the quality branding:

You know, that famous designer? Alfred Sung Angelo?

And ooooh! Union made!

And the quality materials (nothing but the best)

And I thought the sweating was just nervousness... damn acetate!

Look at me in all my glory, after winning a shitload of awards (trust me though, it all went downhill from here... come to think of it, maybe the dress was the beginning of the end?)

So at mom's, I pulled that beyotch of a pink sensory overload dress on, and be damned if it didn't fit and zip up. I FIT THIS DRESS 18 years ago!!!

So while this current eating plan is depressing as all hell, I am running out of things to eat, even the safe foods are starting to upset my stomach more than ever, I have no energy, the nausea is prevailing, and I have no idea what to do next.... I think I have some type of wicked halloween dress this year.

Please anyone, everyone, costume suggestions?

Or better yet, vegan/gluten-free/soy-free/coconut-free/nut-free meal suggestions? PLEAAAAAAASE???


*stomach rumbling*

Such judgmental eyes....

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