So, I Made This Commercial

So, this one time, I had to make this commercial of this well known product for Film School and during the filming of it, I may or may not been indirectly involved with our Actress losing a layer of skin on her shoulder because one of the men chasing her got too enthusiastic when we told him to tackle her and they missed the grass by an inch and hit the cement instead. And she was bleeding all over and it was really cold and we had her in shorts but figured "Fuck it, we aren't rich, we shouldn't have to provide blankets!" and then she slightly froze until our shoot was over.

And then she later came back to do a pants-less music video for us. She's a trooper.

Yes, I Moved Into A Heroin Den. THANKS FOR ASKING!

Moving is an exciting, beautiful thing! You pack up your stuff and you put it in boxes and then you load into transportation and move it to your new place. It sounds so fucking easy it makes you wonder why people don't do this all the fucking time.

The trip down here was something that magic is made off because it consisted of packing our place into a trailer at the last minute because uHaul decided they were going to fuck us over and tickle our genitals while withholding our reservation from us until the last! possible! minute! Because that's how they roll. They roll like assholes.

And The Pilot was extremely tired and he was the one responsible for driving the truck and trailer across one province and into another so when he sadly said to me, "Babe, you've got to drive some of this trip because I am so tired and I need some sleep." and my first reaction was "ARE YOU KIDDING ME? If I drive we will fucking die." but I saw how tired he was so instead I said, "OKAY!" and totally faked any type of confidence I was supposed to have about driving while pulling a big ass overloaded trailer.

In total, I drove an hour out of a 17 hour trip. The whole time while The Pilot was trying to sleep I kept say "OMG, we are so going to fucking die! We're dead! I'm killing us! Any minute now we are going to fucking die in fire!" until the point he told me to pull over so we can switch because it'd be more relaxingly for him to actually be driving so I would shut up about death and fire.

And then we made it to Edmonton late at night and decided to crash as soon as possible because The Pilot was so beyond tired but I figured "He can't really be that tired, he's still functional, let's make him watch a show that neither of us have watched before but I'm going to demand that he fucking watch it straight from start to finish because I am an asshole with no soul.". True story.

Dude probably didn't get to sleep until midnight.

In the morning we were also criticized by the hotel manager for talking too loudly in the shower.

I couldn't have even made that complaint up if I tried.

And then we drive again for some hours and despite me being a gas gauge Nazi and always demanding we are filled up at the whim of my paranoia, The Pilot ignored me with a hand to the face and drove and drove until we were practically out of gas. So it was only natural for me to get hysterical and proudly declare "I was so fucking right, you should have listened to me and now we are going to be stranded and eventually die of fire and hobo raping!". But lucky for The Pilot, who'd be the first natural target of the hobo raping, we managed to limp into a small rink-dink town just in time.

So it was kind of nice that we didn't die. Or get hobo raped.

After that it was smooth sailing, I think. I slept most of the way. It was a good sleep.

Then I woke up when we were an hour away from Kelowna, our new home, only to be told by The Pilot that I was ruining his life because I was ruining his music choices by not letting him listen to the stupidest shit ever. Phil Collins? FUCK THAT NOISE!

And then we pulled in and found a place to crash that didn't have hot water but a working toilet so that was nice. Then the dog vomited on us as a "Fuck you assholes for ruining my life" sort of deal.

Then we woke up and moved into our place the next day and while we were unpacking we totally saw a junkie shooting up heroin in the car port after fighting off a few other junkies from his score. Then he got chased off by a soccer mom that informed us that there is someone in the building here that supplies the homeless people from the fucking homeless shelter next door with heroin and then supplies the rest of the building with pot.

You know, because we're in BC y'all.

Can you guess who got hysterical after that? Both of us. Because fuck that shit.

And then we visited The Pilot's parents only for them to inform us that the McDonalds' that's behind our building got shut down for being the biggest drug haven in Kelowna and that they were never going to visit us as long as we live in that street and would we like chicken or beef for dinner?

But hey, at least we have ducks out back.

Heroin ducks.

Polygamy Sort Of Just Made My Life Awesome

(This conversation took place after watching an episode of 'Sister Wives' on Sunday)

Me: "I think our lives will be so much better if I were able to have another boyfriend. You could have a Brother Husband and he could do all the stuff you don't want to do."

The Pilot: "Like what?"

Me: "Like, buy me a Bobcat for Christmas. Or an Alligator I could ride on."

The Pilot: " Good luck with that one."

Me: "Fine, I actually hope that your Brother Husband makes the dog love him the most and Bowie will never love you ever, ever again."

The Pilot: "Yeah, let's see him try."

Me: "If you ruin my plans for a Brother Husband for you, I'm going to email your mom about how you are forcing me into Polygamy and your hedonistic ways."
The Pilot: "Yeah right, all I have to do is go onto skype and cry mmmmooooommmmyyyy and she will come up here and murder you with her bare hands."

Me: "Are you threatening me?"

The Pilot: "She's got a black belt in Ninjitsu and a brown belt in Judo, only because she doesn't have the flipping power need to advance to the black belt stage."

Me: "You just used your moms Karate skills to threaten me out of giving you a Brother Husband for Christmas?"

The Pilot: "It's not a threat. I'm just letting you know that my mom is perfectly capable of murdering you with her bare hands at my request."

Me: "I'm totally asking your mom about her radical kung-fu over Christmas dinner."

The Pilot: "Do it, and she'll murder you with the same hands she uses to dish out Christmas pie."

And Then He Punched Me In My Lady Balls.

I spent my weekend having to deal with The Pilot who had the audacity to come home sick from work on Thursday night and infect my apartment with his germs and the icing on the cake? He kept demanding that I baby him as he sat on the couch with snot dripping out of his nose and coughs that sent he dog running in the other direction.

The Pilot kept looking at me and demanding that I acknowledge his sick puppy eyes that are pleading for me to take on the role of Florence Nightingale and when I was like “Maybe you can take this down time as a chance to train the dog to be a Triage Nurse?” it wasn’t taken very kindly and I may or may not have repeatedly spanked him when he was being lazy and sick and didn’t want to go grocery shopping with me. But it was justified spanking. I was teaching him to be a man. He had to man up, you see, to get over his sickness.  He may or may not have referred to our apartment being a concentration camp and he may or may not have called my German heritage into question.

So wouldn’t it be funny that when he was slightly more recovered from his illness  I got sick with the same god dang thing and turned around to demand that he look at my sick puppy dog eyes and it was his responsibility as man of the house to play Lawrence Nightingale and nurse me from sickness back into health? And that he wasn’t allowed to treat me the way I treated him while sick because I don’t have a set of testicles so it is physically impossible for me to man up and get over it? And that instead of him being able to spank me, he had to snuggle with me on the couch and feed me Gatorade like a baby would be feed as I made us watch terrible, terrible Netflix movies? Or that when I forced him to go grocery shopping alone because even though I made him go out into the heat sick on a day that was melting everything because “He needed fresh air and sunshine for healing” it would be bad for me because sick people shouldn’t be out in the heat but it was OK for him to bring him home a surprise present and when he got home the present was Halls and the SURPRISE!  Was him throwing them at me when I pointed out those Halls are just candies and not actual medicine. Nor does medicine count as a present and he needed to buy me an extra present to make up for it.

Obviously, compassion doesn’t come as second nature to him as it does me. He can’t be that perfect, like I am.