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The Temp.

You’re probably thinking of some times where your company hired them…that could be good or bad. Reminiscing aside (apologies if your temp had a terrible work ethic, stole your lunch, had stinky feet, list goes on), that is not what I’m talking about.

The Temp is the new term for manfriend, boyfriend, ladyfriend, girlfriend, crush…you get it. They stay as ‘temps’ until really…marriage. And here goes the reasons why.

Some will read this thinking I have some strange bias toward relationships (pause for *gasps* heard around the world), but I shall not be the only person slow clapping at some of these.

1. The Oopsie Temp.

We don’t know how good the Temps are until they have had a few months to get used to their environment. They will seem great at first…I mean they’re trying really hard. They put on a smile, they’re willing to do anything to help you out, great personality.. You’re thinking ‘Oh ya, this’ll turn out Perm for sure.’ HA. No. Because ‘these’ Temps get comfortable. Too fast. You realize the whole interview stage (dating stage, guys) was all fake! Work ethic is terrible, and they have a god awful personality. You’re offended! You’re upset with yourself that you read that whole situation wrong! You now need a cocktail.

No. Well the cocktail part, yes. But no need to be upset. Because, in fact, they were just a Temp. They don’t harm the organization (that’s you if you haven’t caught on yet) in the slightest other than wasting time. Your only concern is bringing in a new one and making sure it’s not like the last. See? I for one, feel better already.

2. The Seasonal Temp.

Some Temps you already know are Seasonal only. This referring to your terms. Some of us request a Temp for the fall/winter for obvious reasons. Having a Temp in the fall means keeping warm, you can both enjoy eating fatty meals together and hiding weight gain under sweaters and oversized scarves. This Temp is solid for the season. When Spring comes, we take a step back and realize…awhhhhhh s*it! Summer is right around the corner. ‘Work’ now becomes slow, uninteresting, boring, and there’s no more need for the Temp. They’ll be back next fall though. You’ll just check with the agency come time and there’s a list of them.

3. The Casual Temp.

Strictly for when you need them. If they’re available they will help you out of a snag. They have their own stuff going on so you can’t always rely on them for extended periods of time, but…great for short notice. Sometimes.

4. The Regret Temp.

Okay, so this one is like the oopsie temp but..way worse. These ones do harm the organization (temporarily, of course) but they didn’t just fake the interview, they were working with the competition.

Mighta been the stealthiness of the Temp, mighta been the ignorance of the organization. Some Temps are really good at what they do. And if they’re a Regret Temp, you won’t know until..until you regret it. Working for another organization is just a deal breaker! You have to FIRE that Temp! They won’t understand though. They will think it’s the organization’s fault. But fuck that idiot Temp. They’re just mad they are no longer with a great company (laugh for the pun and you would make my day). Then you grab a cocktail. But like 5. You have to look at the damage of the organization, which was a bit more than Oopsie, and figure out a plan.

Which really is…get another Temp. BUT – Leaving some space and time to do the work on your own because you just don’t trust these damn agencies (bars, online sites, colleges, teams) right now.

The Perm Temp.

Well, couldn’t end on a bad note. These are the cream of the crop Temps. These Temps…become Permanent. Because of how fantastic they are. They don’t want to be Temps anymore than you! These ones work with you to build up the organization into a flourishing company, ‘producing’ (you’re killing me Smalls) amazing results.

It’s easy to become jealous of these companies, but you’re not. Or you shouldn’t be. Because they worked hard for a Perm.

I mean I don’t know about you but I just slow clapped for the Perm Temp.

This has been fun.
Cheers to Temps.

Friday Date Night

Relationshit goals.
When a relationship goes from good to becomes a relationshit. Friends, family, significant others, no need to specify because it’s essentially all the same..however I’ll just focus on the latter today.
Those people you once knew as being nice, fun to be around, loveable people go and do a 180 like Bruce Jenner and boom. You’re like where the fuck did THAT come from?!
I know. Bad example because we all still love Caitlyn!
Friends can grow apart.’re stuck with sort of. And significant others..weh-heh-elllll they’re just accidents waiting to happen.
Like you date someone and oh-my-god-I’m-in-love (false fucktard it’s infatuation and it’ll pass) and yes they’re like the sweetest little creatures that you’ve literally ever came into contact with and then BOOM. There’s the 180 spinoff. You never did think they’d present this awful language to you..sorry..AT you and you’re no longer love my friend..are dumbstruck. So stop acting like a post.
This is my timeline from relationship-to-shit and an example (god no not my own example because I mean how Taylor Swift of me would THAT be? I heard she’s super sarcastic too).
1.You date.
2.Happy happy honeymoon stage
3.Oh look they just threw a deal breaker in your face
4.Meh I mean I think I still like their genitals hugging mine
6.Oh shit I think I’d rather be abstinent now
7.Andddd nope. Can’t even. Let’s cut this off.
Now you have a relationshit to finish off. I mean, you don’t ever keep a relationshit, it’s like week-old leftovers sitting in your fridge. (Another bad example) You know it’ll get thrown out but, you gotta actually toss it and you’re not sure like, do I throw away the whole container? Or just the food inside of it so it has a chance for new food? (Think of the container as the person, food being their integrity) And then you just say fuck it, I’m having wine and I’ll deal with it later. Then that food just keeps popping out at you every time you open the fridge..pissing you off so you eventually toss the whole fucking thing, container and all because there are sooo many other Tupperware containers available it just seems the most logical.
The best way to avoid a relationshit is to only date pizza and beer on a Friday night. Perfect fucking date night and if you get just the right amount of pizza you wouldn’t even have leftovers to throw away.
In all seriousness pizza does not cuddle the same as I’m sure some people do but keep the cuddles separate from the bullshit. No relationship cuddles. More like..”I just ate so much pizza I need to cuddle” cuddles. Those are good. I know you might think it’s the season for a permanent buddy to keep you all warm and cozy but NO. Get that out of your head. You’ll be just fine once you bust out your scarves and leg warmers from last season.
-Cheers from the eternally single and currently loving it.
Disclaimer: I’m sure many of you are love struck right now. Don’t take’ll either stay that way or join the dark side. I’ll love you anyways.

Life Goals and Some Other Motivational Shit

This blog post is dedicated to the real women, the women who have a ton on their plate but never stop. This is for the women who drink whiskey and smoke cigarettes on Saturday night and eat salad all week for lunch. For the women who work out and for the women who just work all the time. WHY?! Because they do shit for themselves. They strive to be the best they can be and they don’t need the satisfaction from anyone else. These ladies fucking love themselves. They own it, and they take pride in it. You go girls. They don’t sit there and judge anyone else for their life choices, and that’s because they don’t compete with anyone. They don’t give a shit what you do..their life revolves around themselves.

Now I’m not saying that the way to get through life is through selfish, shallow and egotistical ways…I’m just saying we should be the best version we can be and the way to do that isn’t via other people’s opinions of you. If you’re thinking that way..then stop it. I will slap your wrist.

Since when did we start doing things for the satisfaction of other people? When did this become a thing? I truly believe that some of us fantastic women go through life trying to please other people – completely neglecting ourselves. What drives us? What motivates us to be the best we can be? A job? A significant other? A potential significant other? WTF is UP with that? We strive to make more money, to lose weight, to get in shape, to learn how to be a trophy wife…for who? Should be your damn self is what (or Liam Hemsworth…exceptions to the rule ladies). I can definitely tell you out of personal experience that I have had people come into and out of my life over the years and it had nothing to do with how much I weighed, how often I worked out, or what I cooked them for dinner. You can’t leave you better learn to love you..for you.

I’m pretty fucking proud to say that I basically became friends with a girl who I admire. We’re she doesn’t really know yet but if I creep enough I’m sure she’ll figure it out. She’s also friends with Aaron Pritchett…and he’s cool as fuck so I would also like to be friends with him.  Definitely a life goal will be drinking whiskey with them.  Anyway, I think she woke up one day and said “Fuck it. I’m going to be the best person I can be now.” And she did. Like seriously 50 pounds later and she’s still going strong. Her name is Shannon (see link below) and though she’s already succeeding in life, I’m voting to help her win a contest she’s worked so damn hard for. You should too.

If you’re sitting around and you find that you don’t have that sense of motivation to be the best version of yourself..figure out what drives you! Find something that awakens a passion. I don’t care if it’s a sport or a hobby or a friend. Just figure it out! Brainstorm. Accomplish something. It is what drives most of us…you could paint a picture or knit a scarf or finish off a 26 of vodka all on your own in one night, but you accomplished something. Someone tells you not to jump on and dance on a ping pong table so you do it anyways. These are basic goals..but it makes you have purpose.

We’ve all heard the clichés and seen the memes, “If you don’t like your life, change it!”, “Nothing is impossible the word itself says I’m possible”. These are great and if they motivate you? Even better. It takes a bit more than that to get my ass off the couch and my hand off the wine bottle. You read them sitting down scrolling through your pinterest anyway…with your bottle of wine.

Happy Friday everyone.

PS. I hope this post makes a little more sense than my last..I was going on day 3 of insomnia and I think I was a little looped. It’s still my favorite one, though..still might be looped.


The Little Dream That Could..

..make me the happiest girl ever! That was lame. Moving on. I basically can die peacefully now. Had my first dream where me myself and I fucking knew I was in it! I mean I figured it out while I was there. I used basic terms just now but clearly someone smarter than me explained this is in fact a Lucid Dream (I don’t like saying reminds me of the word flaccid and that makes me sad. It makes everyone sad). But yes..this is the technical term.

Know what else makes me sad? That I didn’t even figure out that word (flaccid) until I was like 15! Seriously! Seemed like everybody knew after someone wrote it up on a chalkboard. So there I was all like “OMG-hahahah-so funny-I’m dying-but I don’t actually know what the fuck it is-laughing.” I googled it. Figured it out. Patted myself on the back, I did.

Among other things…I considered condoms simply male underwear.
Someone went around the playground shouting words of disgust after finding one and here I’m’s just gitch. Calm your left tit that you haven’t even developed yet. And then periods?! Holy slap me in the face and call me
Sally…denial stayed with me until that fretful day.

One thing I did know for sure, though…Santa was fucking real. As real as it gets when Tom Cruise professed his love by jumping up and down on a couch like a third grade idiot (which I would still try and see how much I could buy it for). In fact, he’s still real – except he drinks beer, sits on his ass and watches re runs of Charlie Brown Christmas…reminiscing…he’ll never forget what a nice kid I was.

I could go on but clearly my head is just a whizzing so let’s get back..

So my dream. I’m standing in a barn of some sorts and it hit me like, why the fuck are you in a barn? It’s cool but like why? And then a fucking lightbulb blows up in my head “I don’t even think I’m here right now.” *pinches self to wake up*

Nothing happened. So here I go looking up and there’s Snow White just meandering around happier than a pig in shit, and two more than normal human beings with wings attached to their backs (fairies, duh), and a bunch of pigs. Like real pigs, not shirtless men oggling me. Cause I looked damn good in my dream. Some kind of plastic surgery went down right before is my guess.

I go outside the barn and lo and behold? Who else but Gandolf The Grey. With two hobbits. Gandolf was holding up a cardboard sign but I couldn’t read it from that far away. Then I thought after shiiiiiit this wizards all rich and stuff still begging for money you fucking freeloader! Just make it rain gold and go home! Ain’t getting nothing from me! Pfff. Stupid cardboard sign.

So now at this point, I’m like…this is the moment I’ve been waiting for..I get to fly!! Seriously like those are the best dreams and I can do whatever I want in this one. So I snap my fingers and go ‘FLY!’ ………. Uhm. K. Try again. Fucking nothing. So I go up to one of the fairies asking her if she has another set of wings for me. She totally has another set… She couldn’t fly. Just for show.

Dream ends after I’m sitting with some weird spitting image of Frodo and someone super pretty but I don’t know what character she is. I was secretly saying, “Bitch you better not be able the fly, we can’t all have it all”.

And then I woke up and took on the day. a boss. Who still can’t fly.

Cheers to Flac–Woah Woah Woah- Lucid Dreaming..

There he goes he’s just a walkin’ down the – NO.

Ok, technically there is a very good chance that he was just walking down the street. But stop looking. Avert your eyes! He’s a jackass and you deserve so much more than that because you are one damn smart, beautiful, charismatic—–oh annnnnnnnd you’re gone…walking down the street…trying to catch  up to him. *sigh*

Let me be clear that this isn’t just any dude walking down the fucking street. This is the player. The one that gets constant attention because well…he doesn’t give it. He knows you’re into him. He’s quite smart. Not just a dick with a dick..he knows the game. And quite frankly you’re playing along.

Ladies! How many friends have we tried to help out when we see it black and white that these males aren’t interested but yet your friend swears with just a little more make up, a push up bra, some heels (these are simple forms of attention grabbers) that the guy will all of a sudden fall madly and deeply in love with them so they can carry on and live their fantasy life?  In fact…how many times has this happened to you?  Did you listen to your smart fucking friends that told you to give it up? You got mad..didn’t you? Yep. I know. didn’t listen.

This is the start of the worst game you can play. And I’m just calling it ‘The Game.’ Seriously, stupidest fucking thing to play…like if you’re going to play with something at should be fun (mind out of the gutter please I’m being serious). It gets you life. Like literally. I’ll save more of this for later.

But come ON! You’re smarter than that! Let’s (not) play a game..(ew that sounded so SAW Movie like) – are you constantly trying to get his attention and he really doesn’t care? He gives you just enough attention so that you keep up hope but it’s been like weeks and/or months (I pray not years sister) and it literally goes nowhere even though you’ve put in your utmost effort? Then stop. Walk the other way. Save yourself from the ultimate dumbest way to waste your day…days…whatever.
Side note: Cheers, to MY bottle of wine because I got paid today!

No but actually cheers to you too I hope you got paid because you don’t have that sugar daddy yet (key word..YET) and I’m sure you could use a glass of wine. Or a bottle. You know what go grab a box. We don’t judge here.

Grown Women of the World…We Salute You!

Ladies, women of the world, yes, all those mature ladies out there that have self respect and respect for others. This post is for you! Thank your parents, your guardians, your self…shit, thank whoever and whatever made you into the beautiful girl (inside and out) you are today.

Funny isn’t it – how many fucked up people you come across these days? How many – and we’ll just focus on fem-gender today (dear god there isn’t enough time or space to discuss males..KIDDING) insecure, bratty, self involved little unappreciative lassies have we encountered in our life? Wasn’t that sort of thing supposed to stop once we got out of junior high? Oh no..we had to wait until high school. Oh wait…nope…they’re still kicking around…they’re everywhere.  They’re those same people you figured you would never have to deal with again except…yeah no forget I said that.

Us women dealing with the daily ups and downs of life like school, work (maybe both), kids, pets, boyfriends, girlfriends, fiancées, marriages, divorces, funerals, births, bills, houses, apartments, and the many other responsibilities we take care of (that almost winded me dear god I need to work out)…let’s add another one onto the list and that’s disrespectful, spoiled, attention seeking-because-they-have-literally-nothing-better-to do twat muffins (yes I said twat) that play a nice little curveball to try and mess with your already busy life.

Phew! Where’s the vodka??? Because, my bad bitches out there who are pretty much just like me, we can celebrate. We can celebrate the fact that, those poor selfish, individuals trying to ruin your day will really never make it as far as you in life. We laugh at the fact that someone actually has this much time in their day to interfere with your daily activities, probably because they don’t have enough business of their own so they go diving into everyone else’s. Too much time on their hands, and they go minding yours, am I right?!

Here’s a hint for you ‘girls’ out there, from us actual women to take into consideration:

Stop seeking attention from places you shouldn’t and then expect to be…well respected in life. Try finding something positive and meaningful to do. Try something that drives you to be a better person, and to appreciate life itself. Tearing down other women only makes you seem petty – ‘real’ women build eachother up for fuck sakes!

Us women are happy…please…go find your own happiness! Or inhale some vodka and take a nap (that’s just from yours truly). a strong coffee this morning

Disclaimer:  This blog IS dedicated to empowering women! And by god that’s really what we do. Empowered women are strong, and by that, we don’t put up with those who aren’t on our side, so please, disregard any comments you felt were the opposite. We know where we stand and that’s together! And if you’ve read this and gotten offended by something I’ve said, I apologize. You might not be someone I’d ever get along with, either though.

Fall Was the New Black


You know what paired really well with fall this season? White girls.

When I was a kid and the cooler, dry season came around, I was a little sad that there were no more visits to the beach, or weekend camping trips, and most importantly, that I had to go back to school after a lovely 2 months off. But I also recall fall being all about the colours of the fucking leaves changing, the blisters I’d obtain from helping rake the lawn, and then seeing how long I could jump into the pile of them I’d collected before getting into trouble (Let’s be honest, that’s the only reason I’d help rake leaves).

However, now that I’m older, fall has drastically changed my point of view as no longer being a season between summer and winter.

Nope, now this season goes out to the pumpkin spice drinking, boot and scarf wearing, possibly hipster toque buying females who literally can’t get enough of the short weeks leading up to winter. As Stewie might say, ‘This is no longer JUST a season.. this is a lifestyle, Brian.’ Fall is about style. It has nothing to do with denial of the harsh winter months ahead. This is a fashion statement. This is about belonging. So bitch you better have your boots, your scarves, and your tea. Curl up on your couch and start watching all the new shows that began airing between Sept – Oct. Heck, while you’re at it, bake some shit! And light some fucking candles. Your house will smell like the statement you meant to make.


Apples and….’Pears’

Ok ladies…Liqueur For Love has decided on a comeback.

I’m pretty fucking rusty I might add.

Sometimes, you can have a good thing, but it’s really not as good as well..having it with another. And sometimes you can have a bad thing, but paired with something else and you’re good as gold.

  • Fall                                                        Pumpkin Anything (and a boyfriend)
  • Mexican Food                                 Bathroom (plan ahead)
  • Burnt Toast                                      More Bread
  • Black Liquorice                              Garbage can (BURN. IT. ALL.)
  • Copious amounts of Vodka     Advil
  • 24 hours                                             More Time in the Day
  • Shopping mall                                  Someone Else’s Visa
  • Loneliness                                          Dog (I know, I’m deep)
  • Zac Efron                                            Me (I know you thought it was you but..that is incorrect)
  • My Cooking                                       Back up 7/11 Chicken
  • Bacon..                                                  More Bacon
  • Mornings                                             Caesars (for the experienced)
  • A Mistake                                            Plan B (do you even pun?)
  • My Wallet                                            Money (help me, I’m poor)
  • A Good Story                                     Minimum 5 Swear Words
  • Right Now                                            A Fucking Drink


Monday Moment Brought To You By Vodka

So seeing that this last weekend I had where I managed to lose two pairs of shoes, my car (don’t worry I don’t drink and drive), my keys, my phone, and possibly a bit of dignity (all of which were recovered on Sunday), here’s a good ol’ post of another time that I drank copious amounts of alcohol to entertain not I, but you.. If you don’t enjoy it, it’s probably because you did something similar and aren’t quite ready to accept the fact that it’s most likely to happen again.

Once upon a time, I was a young pup that enjoyed the clubs on a Friday and Saturday over bonfires and BBQ’s. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not OLD…I just have a few different priorities when it comes to how I spend my time drinking.  So this fun little night, my sister and I went out to do some dancing and drinking. This turned into this shithead (oh that’s me..on the left) turning just a little classy to trashy in my lovely off white dress and heels and figured it was time to grab a cab home.941977_10152875453110375_134957647_n

As we’re leaving, my sister gets caught up with someone in the club so I thought it best to wait outside for her, when BAM! Smokie stand. That smelllllll. Ok. I have $5.00.  Smokie is about to be in and around my mouth. Happening. So after paying for this fucking thing, I pull off a good ol’ standing stumble and I watch as this smokie slides out of the bun and rolls onto main street. Downtown Winnipeg. Uh…ew right..(not at the time it wasn’t). The lack of sanitariness that comes in the next sentence or two is around a 2 out of 10.  My dilemma:  No more money and now no more smokie. But..I’m a fan of problem solving and a 5 second rule that can turn into 10. So I picked that mother fucker up, blew on it to get the cocaine and cigarette dust off it, slapped a shit ton of mayo and onions on it and I was fucking golden.

My lovely sister is looking for me but I’m tucked away in a corner probably looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame fully invested in devouring this thing, and I spot her talking to the cops. (HOORAY!!!) So I walk over, lean on one of the uniformed men to prevent myself from falling, and ask him if he wants a bite. He politely declined, so naturally, I polished the rest off. They were making good natured banter until I thought it best to relieve myself of the question/educated guess burning up in my brain: one of these crime fighters’ ethnicity. I was wrong on the hypothesis. He was mad. Was that the Italian in him? Honestly not quite sure but asking him that wasn’t the best idea either (bit of a racist crime fighter if I might add). He told us to get a fucking cab. The other cop was doubled over laughing. We got a cab, as I didn’t need a drunk tank when I have a perfectly made up bed to go home to. I waved goodbye, and received one wave back, and I took it as a ‘you win some, you lose some’ type deal.

I could go on with impromptu tambourine playing for a band (not just me out of my friends that do this), launching a birthday cake at a garage wall (missed the target of a friend who covered my face in icing), waking up on my bed hiding underneath a newspaper tent, running up on stage at a Hayes Carll concert, or drinking champagne at 7 am on a highway to celebrate life. But I don’t need people thinking I have no pride. So when you wake up on a Sunday, ashamed of your activities from the night(s) before, just remember, we’ve all been there. If it’s too upsetting, make friends with people that drink so much they could kill a hypothetical small child. Everyone will forget about your poor life choices in about a week. Maybe less. Thirsty Thursday is around the corner.