Crawling Down Your Spine To Make You Stay

We all know that I'm not vegan. There aren't many foods I won't eat, and my soft spot for Big Macs and over-curded poutine is well-documented.

Well, last night the awesome Steve and Sarah hosted a vegan night of taco-tasticness.... forever known as TACOFEST2011.

My first vegan meal ever (at least that I can recall.)

I've never had vegan cheese or vegan sour cream,  and the non-vegan versions of both are my favourite toppings for damn near everything.

This chick was pleasantly surprised. It was all tasty.

My sister has fooled me a few times in the past with faux meat (or whatever you prefer to call it), so I knew how that was.

And I hafta say - a vegan taco is probably a good place for a non-vegan to start.

 

When we weren't busy creating works of art for our stomachs to enjoy, there were dogs to obsess over.

Poor guys probably got sick of me trying to make them pose for photos all night.

I have a problem. How do you think Daisy feels?
 

 

 Sorry, buddy. No tacos for you.

Another first for me - vegan cupcakes.

These were amazing spicy chocolate cupcakes, made by Sherry. So damn good, the picture just makes me hungry again. 

 

Bit too much for ya, Steve? How 'bout another japaleno?

Taco tip - take breaks, eat more. Repeat.

 Remy was eyein' up the red salsa. Even I wasn't brave enough for that one.

Sarah made us all taco nametags, which we later used for a little game.

Similar to Pin the Tail on the Donkey. But not.

Selena Gomez made a brief appearance at TacoFest.

It's a little known fact that Selena is a big fan of vegan tacos. It's true. Ask Beiber.

 

She didn't stay up there long.

We pinned our taco nametags on her face.

I was trying to aim for some Gomez boob, but I sadly failed. No TacoTits.

Ira, are you ashamed of me for losing?

See?

She loves the taco action. And her boobs remain taco free.

Thumbs up for TacoFest!

TACOFEST2011, and my first real vegan experience, was a success. Huzzah!

Thanks for the good times, folks.

But a big 'no thank you' to whoever wished for this, though...

Snow.

Winter's here. And, to that, I say boo. BOO!

I've Got A Mind Full Of Wicked Designs

On Saturday afternoon, my Blackberry finally bit it.

And bit it good.

Screen busted, and this is all that showed up. I could hear that all my texts and emails were still coming in, but I couldn't read any of them. Frustrating. Sadly, we live in a time when not having a cell phone is like losing an arm.

I needed my arm. I had grown quite fond of it.

So, I went to get my upgrade at Bell. Got the Samsung Galaxy S II (I was told that upgrades were free, so stupid me didn't realize I'd be paying for it... until everything was done and they asked for my money. Yikes.)

This phone kicks ass.

I've been taking pictures non-stop, so I apologize for the annoying amount of crap I'll be posting in the next little while.

...to which you will likely reply "But Kris, don't you always post annoying crap?"

Yes.

But now it'll be things like... shirtless dudes playing RockBand.

And sammiches.

And unamused sing-y faces.

But, as usual, I'll post beer shots.

New phone, old obsessions.

The Raiden hat came out on Saturday.

So what if I want awesometastical powers. That's what hats do.

You're silly if you believe otherwise.

See? Hat powers.

I made half of my nose disappear.

But the new phone took hold of me, and I discovered the joy of apps. My old Blackberry had none, so it was kinda like Dork Christmas.

Especially the camera apps. Aw, hell.

Does this one creep anyone else out?

Retro photos make High Park look good.

And Daisy doesn't look too shabby either.

Moral of this useless blogstory is that I am really digging my new phone. And this commercial kinda makes me dig it even more:





So if you have my number, text me with your name. Or I shall beat you.

You've Got To Roll With The Punches To Get To What's Real

I read your post about being single and not needing a man to take care of you and I thought I would ask some advice (sorry if it sounds stupid, it feels a bit strange to ask for help from a stranger). My fiancé and I recently broke up after 6 years together and I'm a bit lost and freaked out at the moment. Do you have any tips for a woman who has never been alone or even lived alone before?

Teach me your ways!

Marie

 I'll give you some pointers based solely on my own experience. Some people may disagree with me, but those people are what I like to call "dumbasses". Just kidding. Everyone is different, so what works for me may not work for you.

Anyhoo... my random thoughts:

1. If you're going to be living alone for the first time ever, get a pet. You're going to feel strange and lonely at first, and a pet can help with that.

It's not considered 'talking to yourself' if you pretend you're conversing with a dog. Pro tip.

2. Get out. Do fun things, get distracted, meet new people. If you're anything like me, breakups have a way of making you feel shittier than anything else possibly could - good folks can help that, even if temporarily.

3. Y'know all those things you wanted to wear/do/have/etc, but your dude wasn't a fan? Yeah. He's no longer an issue. You are free to do absolutely anything you want to. In every way. (Just don't murder people, I hear jail's kind of a downer).

Oh, you hate this colour lipstick? Cool. Move out.

4. Dating can be fun (and again, distracting), but it's probably a good idea not to rush into another serious relationship right away. It'd likely be for the wrong reasons, like loneliness and an inability to properly use a hammer. Relationships for those reasons alone inevitably fail, and people get hurt. Sometimes with hammers.

5. Do you have a lot of single friends? Good. If you don't? Try to meet some. The last thing you want to do is be a third wheel (or fifth wheel) to happy couples. They'll lead you to drink. Which brings me to my next point...

6. Beer is delicious. That doesn't necessarily help you in any way, I just wanted you to know. Poutine, too. That shit is better than men.

I can see clearly now, the beer is gone. But more is coming.

7. Everything in this old post rings true still.

8. You have total freedom. You may be sad, lonely, and unsure of what to do... but you always have options. It's hard to start over when you're used to being part of a package deal; it's like half of you walked out the door and you can no longer keep your balance. You can. Hell, I have a couple of years of blog-posts to tell you all you need to know.

And if all else fails, re-read #6 and repeat.

Good luck - I hope you find out how happy you can be alone. That's the only way you will ever be happy again with anyone else - people used to tell me that all the time when I didn't want to hear it, and they were right. (First person to say "I told ya so" gets a throat punch.)

Happy? Might as well jump.

Any other advice for our girl, reader-folks?

Like Two Sweet Peas In An Even Sweeter Pod

Today is Daisy's BirthAversary.

Her made-up birthday (because no one knows her exact age or birth date), and the anniversary of the day we rescued her from the evil pantless crackheads.

I've had her for 3 years now so, for all fictional intents and purposes, she's 6 years old.

Even at the ripe ol' age of 6, my girl's still got it.

Yesterday at the park, a lady told me that she'd pay over 3 thousand bucks to take Daisy off my hands.

Not too shabby for a crackhouse puppy mill rescue dog, eh?

I could use that 3 grand, too.

But no. I've become slightly attached (read: overly obsessive and crazy-dog-lady-in-love) to my chick, hence all these bajillion phone pictures of her.

She's all I've got.

So Happy BirthAversary, my girly.

Thanks for the cuddles, the cute pig noises, and the attempts to find me a boyfriend in your awkward doggy way (you can stop that, though).

Thanks for being the kinda dog that even dog-haters love.

Thanks for curling up on my lap if I'm crying, and jumping around like a wonky drunk bunny if I'm laughing.

Thanks for going in the fridge that one night and leaving a beer by the couch for me.

And thanks for being the best damn dog ever. Now let's go chase some shit.

(Sentimental Kris moment - over.)

I'm A Perfectionist, And Perfect Is A Skinned Knee

Masuka recently had a house party. I got to meet his uber cute spawn, talk to some new folks, and get overly drunk without realizing it, which is exactly what my favourite perverted friend had planned.

This is a series of pics he sent me.

I know that in the first one, I'm telling him give me his watch so I can wear it as a choker.

In the last one, I'm smelling him.Yep. Smelling him.

The rest.... well, why don't you guys tell me?

 

 

Because, at this point, your guess is as good as mine. So have at it.

Best captions or made-up storylines win an interweb high-five from yours truly, along with my undying respect (which obviously isn't as cool as a high-five).

Go!