Cliches

Introduction

Good morning and/or afternoon and/or evening. So today my girl Manda and I went to Colasantis. For those of you who do not know what that is, its a place with animals and plants and whatnot. It has the best chicken, the best cinnamon donuts, and the best peach juice. If you've lived in the area or surrounding areas and have never been there as a child, you are certainly considered deprived. Anyway, we parked out front and went inside where I was attacked by a herd of goats who got mud and goat crap all over my new jeans. I really wanted a picture with one of them so I went up to a brown one who ran away from me. I then tried my luck with a black one but it started pooping as I approached it. We indulged in a delicious homemade picnic and then decided it was time to head out. Apparently the place closed at 5 and it was well past 5. The only way to exit the building was through the back. We had no choice but to walk down a dark creepy road with no sidewalks to get to the car. Oh, did I mention it was pouring rain? Because it was. We aren't 85 years old and therefore don't carry umbrellas around with us so we had to resort to using a magazine of upcoming Colasantis events to keep us “dry.”

Cliches

Personally, I hate using cliches. I feel like it's cheating; using overly written and used words to sum up your feelings instead of expressing how you really feel. Most cliches have been used so many times that their meanings almost become pointless. However, sometimes there is just no better way to describe a moment or express an opinion than by using a good old fashioned, overused but understood by everyone cliche. For my post today I'm going to take some well-known cliches and describe a personal experience related to them!

1. “Beauty is pain.”

I was in Grade 12 and I was in hardcore lust with a boy. He invited me to his house one day to “watch a movie” after which we would be attending one of his family events. In Grade 12 “watching a movie” didn't actually mean watching a movie. I think you can figure out what I'm getting at here. Anyway, I wanted to look nice. Nice meant no underwear lines. Now, I am not a fan of thongs as I find them irritating and pointless but, beauty is pain. I dug out my best/only thong from my mountain of white cottons and tried to position it in a way that didn't highlight my muffin top. While we were “watching a movie” my thong ripped in half. He didn't notice and I was too embarrassed to say anything so I had to walk around his family party with a thong that was ripped in half, praying it wouldn't slide down my body. I sewed up this thong and kept it as a memory.

2. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

I was about 17 or 18 and had fake identification, which only worked at Woody's (a slightly ghetto bar but always filled with possibilities and great memories). I would always wear the same hideous fake suede boots to the bar, they were the only comfortable shoes I owned, but GOD were they hideous (see picture of the day at end of blog). I thought wearing them seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway being the classy girl I was at the time and continue to be, it was also a good idea at the time to dance on top of the speakers. I was busting out my best moves (fist pumps and booty shakes) when my ugly boot got caught in between two speakers and my entire leg was jammed, resulting in a ginormous bruise. My friends had to heave me out. I felt like James Franco in 127 Hours.

3. “Patience is a virtue.”

It was a year or two ago and I was at the gym. I was half-way through my regular treadmill routine when I felt some rumbling in my stomach. I diagnosed it as mild indigestion and continued on with my work out. Afterwards, I was packing up my belongings in the locker room when the rumbling in my stomach made its way down south. Now, I have some sort of phobia or dysfunction where I can't take a Number 2 in public so I scooted out of the gym and headed for home. I didn't anticipate how bad things were about to get. I could hardly hold it. I was sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Of COURSE I got EVERY red light possible on the way home. It only got worse as time passed. I was stopped at yet another red light and this is where I began to pray aloud. “Please God, Please don't let me crap my pants. PLEASE.” At this point I started to tear up. I began getting angry and started cussing. My breathing patterns were now those of a woman in labour. I FINALLY get home and I waddle my way into the house, clenching my butt. I hurl open the front door, whip off my shoes and run to our only bathroom only to discover it was occupied by my Mom who was taking a bath. It was all over. I was out of luck and out of patience. I crapped my pants.

4. “You gotta put your foot down.”

I was living in Whistler, BC with three other girls and I have a farting issue. The issue being that I never stop farting. If I excused myself to go to the washroom every time I needed to pass gas I would live in it. I was brought up in an environment where tooting was highly praised and it was a hard transition for me moving in with people who are...normal. One night I was extra gaseous and my roommates decided to put their foot down. They threw me on the balcony and locked the door. There was no way off the balcony and no way to get inside the house and it was dark. Luckily I could see the television from outside so I set up a chair and chilled. Then they shut the blinds. After banging on the door for several minutes they eventually let me in. I tried my best to only toot outside from then on.

By-eee

Thank you so much for reading :) :) I appreciate all your compliments on my blog! I am happy people find me entertaining! Enjoy the picture of the day!

Love,

Chels

 

These are the hideous boots I would wear EVERY weekend downtown. Woof.

The worst part is several people have told me how horrible they looked

but I just didn't care.