Delicious Drool

This happened about 10 minutes ago.

Pretty gross, and I haven't even been able to eat yet today. Thanks, dogs.


Gross: My great dane, Schultz, just shook his head heartily from across the room. A big, long goobery drool flew off and landed on my hubs' laptop lid.

Grosser: I realized all the dog spit cloths are in the dryer, so I looked at it for a second, but didn't wipe it up. The kleenex box is way over there, and the laptop lid looks pretty gross already. Right? Riiight?


Grossest: Ella, the lab, came along, sniffed the laptop case, and licked up the dane's drool. She ate it completely. Blaaaaaaaargh.

The moral of the story: This is why dogs shouldn't have chocolate**. The deliciousness would be wasted on them, since they are content with cat turds, poop and each other's saliva.


** And the fact that chocolate is toxic and can kill them if they have too much or too pure. Like coke for people. Not the drink, the powder. Ahhh, nevermind.

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Air Canada and Passenger Fu

Recently heard on the loudspeaker, while waiting to board Air Canada Flight 033 departing Toronto, Ontario, bound for Vancouver, BC:

"Paging passenger Fu."

*silence*

"Air Canada paging passenger Fu... passenger Fu..."

*pause*

"EFF YOU"

*I laugh heartily out loud, and the speaker system flicks off*

'Tis the season and all.

_______________

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Elvis & The Vancouver Christmas Market 2012

Go ahead.

I can feel you judging me from there already.

I can practically hear you snickering at the assertion I'm making in the title of this post.

But it's true.

I really did leave the house and go to the 2012 Vancouver Christmas Market. I know, I realize it's shocking.

It required me to both change out of my pajamas AND brush my teeth in the same hour. It was utterly exhausting.

But after we paid $10 to enter, sacrificed an arm and a leg to get some mulled wine and apple cider, the unthinkable happened.

Elvis showed up.


I am not talking some two-bit weekend actor playing the part. I'm not referencing the on-site entertainment consisting of the woman playing various-sized cowbells alongside the gentleman equipped with the accordion. No. I mean motherf_cking Elvis.

A bit of history:

When I was a wee lass, my mother had an extensive Christmas album collection on vinyl. It consisted of THIS GUY singing all your favourite holiday hits:

The bouffant. The realistic back drop. The uber-relaxed posture. The epitome of Christmas, that Elvis.

What else was in the collection? Well... that was it, actually. But the record had TWO sides, so it was double your Elvis pleasure.

I recently found BOTH sides of this nostalgic album on YouTube to enjoy over and over again, like the days of my youth. I quite like it. My mom LOVES it. Interestingly enough, it would seem that the Hubs HATES it.

So he's been forced to listen to it maybe six or more times already in the past few days.




Fast forward to the Vancouver Christmas Market, 2012...

I saw an alpaca teddy bear I wanted. It was $55. I did not get it.
I saw a pretty Christmas ornament, that I assume must be handmade or else equipped with a high gold content, for $27.
I saw a stick with fruit on it that cost about $6.50, but hey, they'd dip it in chocolate for you!
I saw lots of good looking carbs, all fairly expensive in my eyes.

I saw a candle for $17. A single small candle. For $17.

You know what? There was no fudge. None.

I saw a massive lineup for french-fried potatoes on a stick. Call it a tornado and they will come.
My friend got a small hot chocolate. I believe it cost her $5 or $6. Not artisan chocolate, or specialty hot chocolate, or German chocolate. Just "Christmas Market" hot chocolate, at low, low Christmas Market prices.

But then my pessimism was halted. My focus? Redirected. My mind.... = blown.

On the loudspeaker, what rained down like an eargasm on a rare non-rainy day in the city?

You guessed it.  Spongebob Squarepants   Mariah Carey's horrible song on loop   Metallica  Elvis mother-effin' Presley and his Christmas album. In stereo. In loud, beautiful stereo. The Hubs stood slack-faced with his ridiculously overpriced pretzel in hand, as I danced about with jazzy hands singing along at top volume.

Our new friends (who invited us) may have even been embarassed.

But at least we got legit Elvis at the market. My mom is going to be sooo jealous.

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