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Posts by bschooled

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1318251815_in-english-frontFrancoise Hardy In English

Track Listing

-“Francine Hardy”

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Screen Shot 2013-12-09 at 9.40.57 PMCan I Touch You….There? -Michael Bolton

Track Listing

-“Can I Touch You…There?”

-“Okay Then, How About If I Touch You…There?

-“What About…There?

-“Or…There

-“C’mon, At Least Let Me Touch You…There

…There?

-“Not Even…There?”

-“What If I Just Touched You…There?”

-“WELL THEN WILL YOU AT LEAST PUT DOWN THE MACE SO I CAN TOUCH MYSELF???”

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SL29162The Still Of The Night -The Perry Sisters

Track Listing

-“Lean On Me”

-“Come On I Lean”

-“This Slant Is Your Slant”

-“Here We (Verti)Go Again”

-“Touched By An Angle”

-“I’m Still Standing (Barely)”

-“She Ain’t (Top) Heavy, She’s My Sister”

-“Twisted Sisters”

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cd87d0e0bf3221c468049017dc8dc63a“Give Your Dick To Me” -Barbara Markay

Track Listing

-“Give Your Dick To Me”

-“Seriously, I Want You To Give Me Your Dick”

-“Because I Need A Dick, That’s Why”

-“What’s The Big Deal?”

-“It’s Not Like You Know How To Use It, Anyway”

-“Besides, You Can Always Get A Prosthetic Dick”

-“Or Go Dickless”

-“Just Give Me Your Dick”

“Or Leave It On The Nightstand On Your Way Out”

-“I Want To Add It To My Dick Collection”

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22222 copy copyHaving Thing$ -M$. Tee

Track Listing

-“A $ofa”

-“A Night$tand”

-“$ome Artwork”

“$habby Carpet$”

“Water $tained Wall$”

-“A Po$$ible Mold Problem”

-“A $lumlord”

-“An Unhealthy Denim Feti$h”

-“A $tunned Vagina Expre$$ion”

-“The Appearance Of A Rap Arti$t Who Ju$t  Doe$n’t Give A $hit”

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img_331599_23431204_020/20 -George Brown

Track Listing

“20/20″

“60 Minutes”

“Dateline”

“48 Hours Mystery”

“Nancy Grace”

-“Lockup Raw”

“To Catch A Predator (Episodes 1, 3 and 11)”

“Oh, And I’ve Also Done Some Modeling Work…”

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Growing up, my sister and I weren’t close.

Because she is younger, I felt like she wasn’t on the same intellectual level that I was. We had no common interests: She liked handbells, I licked doorbells. She would play house, I would tap every piece of furniture/appliance/inanimate object in the house (just so there were no hurt feelings and the ottoman wouldn’t think that I was giving preferential treatment to the toaster oven).

But now that we’re older and wiser and my sister has suddenly developed her own OCD-triggered quirks, things are different.

Now when she has exciting news, I’m the first one to hear about it. Like the time she entered a random draw and won a new car. Or last November, when she went into labor with my nephew. Or just the other week, when she found out Shopper’s Drug Mart was having a sale on feminine hygiene products.

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couponinglo1final copy

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coup2 copy

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Recently, in an effort to keep my blog from collecting dust while waiting for my fiance/online scam artist to either put up or shut up, I asked my sister if I could interview her.

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lo12

.**Warning- The following interview contains material that may not be relevant/interesting for some people. Reader discretion is advised.

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Interview With A Couponing Enthusiast

Me: How did you first get into couponing?

Sis: I saw a show called Extreme Couponing when I was in the states and I thought…”Wow…I wish I could do that.”  And then a friend told me I could!

Me: Do any of your friends share your passion/illness?

Sis: My friend Hayley. We both have the same hoarding/OCD issues so it can get a little crazy. After a good score we generally text back and forth for hours going over the  transaction. (”…and then the cashier said such-and-such and I was like what?”)

Me: Where do you shop? Have cashiers ever refused to serve you?

Sis: Usually Superstore and Walmart. Safeway is usually more expensive but when they have a B1G1 sale (‘Buy One Get One’) you can really score if you have a coupon for a free item.

Most cashiers don’t like us when they see us coming but so far only one has refused to ring us through.  There are a few cashiers who are amazed by our skill. Sometimes we give them a coupon to to use themselves.

Me: Your kindness is inspiring. Why don’t you show us some of the items you currently have in your stockpile.

Sis: My pleasure.

IMG_2107 You can call this one “Christmas gifts may be a little awkward this year!”
And a tip: When buying 26 boxes of tampons go to the young guy. He will not
 question your coupon and try and get you out fast!

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IMG_2110 I keep this cupboard closed when new people come over. At
least until they know I’m not insane. Also, there are 32 cans
of shaving cream…and my legs are still hairy!

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IMG_2115I got these for $0.32 each.  Haven’t bought laundry soap in over a year!

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IMG_2108I don’t even have a dog.

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IMG_2112I like having options for my hair.

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IMG_2114I think this shows my passion for oral care.

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IMG_2317 2Any guesses what my deal was this week?
Haha no not free but $1.33 a pack.

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Me: I notice that a lot of your purchases consist of toiletries. Since when did you suddenly develop an interest in personal hygiene?

Sis: Food coupons are rarely healthy choices so it’s really my only option.

Me: How many boxes of tampons does one person need?

Sis: It depends on your age and when menopause kicks in. But in general I’d say at least a thousand in a lifetime.

Me: If you had a coupon for these would you buy them?

charmponsfinall

.Sis: Yes.

Me: Thanks. I came up with it myself.  Anyway, back to the questions. Do you have any funny couponing stories you’d like to share?

Sis: It was early in our couponing days and we were at superstore. Back then we didn’t know the cashiers so we went through some bitter old lady’s till. She looked at the coupons, looked at the item and said we had the wrong product. The coupons even had a picture of the product on it, so we questioned her. Then she got mad and shouted at my friend that she smelled like cheese.

When we asked for a manager she said she would let us off the hook this time. We were like “Let us off the hook for what?” But we saw our co-workers in line behind us so we just let it go.

Me: I said “funny” stories.

Sis: Every time Phil [Ollie's Dad] comes over to watch Ollie I have had tampons strategically placed throughout the apartment. I like to admire my haul for a few days.  Anyway, I finally put them away and then one day I came home and suddenly they turned up in the bathroom in a pyramid. haha

Me: You should submit that one to Reader’s Digest. They’d be all over it.

Sis: Yeah. they can put it under Life’s Like That or Menstruating.

Me: Hypothetically speaking, say your family came to visit one weekend and you invited your sister to run errands with you. Assuming you wanted to bond with her, she agreed. After spending the next ten minutes driving in complete silence (something about you not being able to “talk and steer” at the same time),  you arrived at the store parking lot, at which point you then jumped out of the car and yelled “MEET ME AT THE HEALTH AND BEAUTY SECTION” before rushing the front doors and elbow-checking the Walmart Greeter.

When your sister finally tracked you down, you then shoved a stack of coupons and 12 sticks of deodorant in her arms and said “Make sure you go to a guy cashier because they don’t question you.” (This is a rhetorical question by the way.)

Sis: I’d say you have a good sister that takes care of your hygiene. Most people don’t have that.

Me: That reminds me,  do you remember when you used to wear deodorant on your forehead? (Again, rhetorical question.)

Sis: Do you rmember when you tried to make me drink your urine? (Also a rhetorical question.)

Me: You’re obviously suffering from reverse-toxic-shock syndrome-related delusions because that didn’t happen. Also, you really need to look up what the word “rhetorical” means. Now, moving on…what advice would you give to people who want to pursue this socially-maladjusted lifestyle?

Sis: You have to have time on your hands and a good memory. You need to go through each flier every week to check out the sales and match them with your coupon. Some cashiers will inspect your coupons and try and find something wrong with them. We call these cashiers the coupon inspectors. They are usually bitter old woman who hate to see anyone get anything for free.

Me: Sounds fun.

Sis: It’s a bit of a mental illness, really. But at least it’s not heroin.

Me: No need to explain. Any time a single woman brags about having hairy legs and a fondness for dog food, the mental illness part goes without saying.

Sis: To be fair, I was getting the dog food for Nicki. Apparently her dog has allergies. So does Brandy’s dog. And so does Marion’s.

Me: Don’t worry. I’m sure one of  your non-discriminating dog owner friends will appreciate your generosity.

Sis:IMG_2122 copy copy

.Me: Okay so I was wrong. Just out of curiousity, does it ever occur to you that I was the one mom and dad sent to see a psychologist?

Sis: My kind of OCD is useful. What good does counting sidewalk squares do for anyone? Or tapping your nose 49 times on both sides so one side doesn’t feel bad?

Me: Yes, I’m sure your friend Brad would agree that your kind of crazy is waaaay more useful. One last question… You do realize panty liners can’t love you back, right?

Sis: They weren’t built for love. Just protection.

Me: Thank-you for your time. I look forward to Christmas, when I can once again open each of the 143 individually-wrapped Lady Speed Sticks you have waiting for me under the tree.

Sis: Don’t forget about the toothpaste. I really spoiled you this year.

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~Later That Night~

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lo222 copy

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So, for those of you hopeful romantics who’ve been waiting  anxiously for updates re: my personal life, I have some good news and some bad news.

The good news is I’ve spent the last few weeks working on various blog posts based on my attempts at finding love. The bad news is that due to circumstances beyond my conscious control, I haven’t actually finished any of them.

Sadly, over the last few weeks my OCD has gone into hyperactive mode, a fact which can be illustrated by the following exchange between myself and a scammer/potential love interest on FB:

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Screen Shot 2013-09-04 at 11.37.33 AM copy copy.

Recently, while downloading photos from my iPhone, I discovered another side-effect of my debilitating and time-consuming illness.  I’m not sure of the medical terminology, but basically it consists of a subconscious compulsion to take  screenshots of every image I find, regardless of  subject matter/whether or not it was intentional.

While I complete the daunting task of cropping my lovers’ Facebook/email messages so that each one is exactly 320×600 pixels in size and not a pixel more so help me God, I thought I’d share are a few of these screenshots on the off chance that someone might find them useful.

*Please feel free to take whichever ones you feel will benefit your life in some obscure, illogical way. (No judgement.)
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IMG_1375 copy copy copyA screenshot taken while learning how to take a screenshot.

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IMG_1379While trying to figure out why my alarm wouldn’t stop going off.

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IMG_1603 copyI think they ‘re trying to tell me that playing Bubble Pop for
hours on end isn’t productive.

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IMG_9411 copyA screenshot I don’t remember taking of a photo I don’t
remember taking of a pic of people I don’t know
= Art

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IMG_0993 copyMy three most prized possessions:
1. Computer
2. Remote Control
3. Left Leg

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IMG_0992 copyPretty sure this dude was ogling me with his peripheral vision.

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IMG_1324 copy copyMy nephew, Ollie. He takes after his dad. (aka. Burt Reynolds)

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IMG_1323 copy Lol  Like father, like son!

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IMG_1132 copyInquiring minds want to know.

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IMG_0981 copyThis poem made me believe in shoulders.

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aaaI have no idea why I took a screenshot of this.

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IMG_1086 copy…Or this.

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IMG_1089Or why, three months later, it’s still my screensaver.

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IMG_1162 copy copy copyUnlike my previous screensaver, which goes without saying.

 

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connieWe’re related.

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IMG_0947 copy Found while Googling possible reasons for blocked tear ducts.

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IMG_0851Speaking of blocked tear ducts…

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IMG_0982 copy copy copyEr, I had a mouth infection and was looking for a dentist.

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IMG_1171 copy copy copyAlso,  a rash.

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IMG_1315 copyOkay kid, so would you or would you not date a
fan??? You’re giving me mixed signals…

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cougaredI call this my visual ego boost.

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IMG_1616 copyEr, no reason.

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IMG_1181 copy“In India, Everything’s A Vagina!”

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treevag copyVagina

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faaVagina

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guyvag copyVagina

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stunn copy copyStunned Vagina

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pussy copyPussy

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kimkjustin copyIt’s even more hideous than I imagined.

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kimgun copy It also explains  this.

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couplevag copy copy…and this.

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vagsoup copyBut not this.

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And definitely not this:

wqwq copyDUH!  Everyone knows that we Canadians only wear toques on our heads.

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taylor1 copyWorst”Best Answer” in the history of Yahoo.

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Whenever I’m suffering from humor-related insecurities, I find  that Facebook really helps me keep things in perspective.

santa

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fa copy.Same with Dane Cook’s Twitter feed.

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Fnally, just so you don’t think I completely lack depth, here’s  a quote from Joel Osteen:

IMG_1478 copy

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Which I never would have taken had I not accidentally typed the name “Joel Osteen” while Googling the adult version of this kid:

osmentNo reason

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**As you may recall, I was planning to use this post to share some of my foolproof online dating tips. Unfortunately, since true love doesn’t care about promises I make on my blog, I haven’t had time to finish it. The good news is that because my dating tips are so effective, I’m currently in the middle of a messy love triangle with a guy posing as two different guys.

Only time will tell if I choose the right one. In the meantime, I thought I’d use this opportunity to give back, by republishing an old post that I really think brings out my charitable nature.

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Exit Row Hero

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If I had to pick one word to describe me, it would be Humanitarian.

Ever since I was a child, I’ve had a passion for rescuing others. While my friends had dreams of marrying Johnny Depp; I dreamed of finding him in cardiac arrest and shocking him back to life with a defibrillator.

Recently, while on a flight to San Francisco, my dreams of becoming a real-life hero finally came to fruition.

When I checked in for my flight, the attractive agent asked if I wanted to sit in the exit row. “We usually charge extra,” he said. “But I’ll waive the fee this time.”

Thanks to Cosmo I’m really good at reading between the lines. “Is that because you want me to have sex with you?” I asked, casually tracing a figure eight stretching around both my nipples

He said it was because there were seats available and most people preferred the extra leg room. But I could tell by the way he refused eye-contact that he was hiding his true feelings.

Shortly after boarding, the crew started their in-flight safety demonstration. Because I don’t like listening to boring things, I grabbed my iPhone to check my messages.

“Excuse me miss.” I looked up and saw a flight attendant standing over me, giving me the evil eye. “I must insist that you listen to the safety announcement.”

I told her I had faith in the pilots’ abilities and if she didn’t then perhaps she should look into another line of work.

“You don’t understand,” she said. “You’re in the exit row. That means you are responsible for opening the hatch if anything happens.”

She handed me a safety brochure. “Read this.”

While skimming through it, my eyes zoomed in on the following:

You might suffer bodily harm as a result of performing one or more of the emergency exit functions listed on this safety card.

I handed it back. Then I politely explained that while I had no problem doing her job for her, my condition prevented me from performing any potentially dangerous activities.

“I…have…type…two…Asthma,” I said, coughing between words. “It’s malignant.”

“If you don’t agree to the terms, I am going to have to move you to another seat.”

“But you can’t!This seat was given to me by the ticket agent as a token of his wanting to have sex with me.”

I told her that one of the symptoms of my disease was impulsiveness, and if she made me move I might accidentally announce over the loud speaker that she was racist against Type-Two Malignant Asthmatics. Then I rested my head on the shoulder of the old man next to me and pretended to pass out.

Shortly after the plane left the tarmac, I noticed a young boy sitting across the aisle. He was covering his ears with his hands.

“My ears!” he screamed. “Mommy my ears are hurting!”

His distressed-looking mother gave him a stick of chewing gum. He chucked it to the floor.

“YOU KNOW I DON’T LIKE THAT KIND!!! I WANT THE KIND THAT MAKES BUBBLES!! I HATE YOU!!! I WANT TO LIVE WITH DADDY!!”

She told him to calm down. He responded by spitting on her fake Lululemon pants. (I know they were fake because I’m a label whore.) Visibly frustrated, she grabbed him by the arm and started scolding him.

Because I watch a lot of hidden camera shows, I could tell this was a set-up. It was obvious that John Quinones was somewhere on the plane, waiting to film my reaction to everyday dilemmas that test my character and values.

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Since I had no intention of being known as “Asshole Who Sits There And Does Nothing” I grabbed the kids’ other arm and pulled it toward me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The mother asked. She started pulling his arm harder.

I stood up to get more traction.

 Eventually, she lost her grip.  I yanked the hysterical kid away and sat him down on my lap.

“Don’t worry, ” I said, petting his tear-stained face.  “Everything’s going to be okay. I’m your mommy now.”

When he wouldn’t stop crying, I gently placed the oxygen mask over his mouth. Then I told Pussin Temple Drive (Named after my old cat and the street I grew up on) that he was coming to live with me and that he would never have to feel ashamed again because his new mommy was a MILF who only wore real brand name yoga pants.

Just as I was about to give Pussin a snack, two burly-looking men sitting a few rows ahead stood up and walked over.

“What seems to be the problem here?” the least-hot-one asked.

“She took my son!” Pussin’s old mother said, pointing at me. “And now she’s trying to breast-feed him!!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said.  As I re-fastened the buttons on my shirt, I explained to the men that everything was under control and it would all make sense when John Quinones came out and revealed himself.

In the end, it turned out there was no hidden camera. Apparently John Quinones was away on vacation and the whole messed-up scenario had been legit.

Deep down, I was relieved. I knew in my heart that I wasn’t ready to be a mother. Not to mention the fact that because I live in an adults only building, Pussin would have had to sleep in the shed.

Still, even though my heroic efforts weren’t aired on National television, that doesn’t make me any less of a hero. If anything, I think it makes me an even bigger hero, since I was unable to use my selflessness to promote my still undetermined (but open to offers) career.

*FYI- While the airlines have yet to send me a letter of recognition and/or lift my three-year flight ban, I know they appreciated my efforts.

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