Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Reason #2 I'm Damn Fine - Spinoff

Alright folks, here comes Round 2. First the very much required shout out to Marjorie at Don't Call Me Marge. Her original 5 Reasons. My original 5 Reasons. We're kind of a big deal; you should read us. Moving on...

Reason #2: I jog a.k.a I work out!

My original post consisted of a witty play on LMFAO's, I'm Sexy and I Know It. This post is going to be more along the lines of why I hate to love jogging. It's inspired by yet another fantastic blog post, "An ode to running" on yet another fantastic blog, Bitchin Sisters.

Me and jogging have had an on/off relationship for some time now. We take breaks from each other, but we always find our way back to each other in the end. We've recently rekindled our connection, but let me tell you, it hasn't been easy. First, jogging made my legs hurt, more specifically, the backs of my calves.
For a few days, I could hardly get out of bed without stumbling for the first few steps. Then, jogging made my ankles hurt. I had to take the elevator down one measly floor because my ankles just couldn't sustain the pressure of walking down stairs. I'll have you know, though, that going up stairs was fine; it was just the downward direction that caused borderline paralysis. Finally, jogging made my knee hurt. Just the left one. I randomly woke up one morning and could hardly bend it. But all that pain, it was the good kind. The kind that reminds me of the fact that I am a jogger. There's just something about that feeling of achievement after a jog, that ability to say, "That's right, I just went for a jog," that makes me continue my hate/love relationship with jogging.

I mentioned in my 5 Reasons post that people stare when I jog on by.
Now, I like to think it's because I look like this:
In actuality, it's likely because I look like this (still pretty damn cute, right?!):
In keeping with the theme of how I look when I jog, I'm going to do my best at creating a mental image for you of what I look like when I jog outside in the winter (another reason I hate to love jogging). In our relationship, jogging takes care of me, you see. Before we can go out together, I have to be dressed properly for the frigid weather. Now, here's what I mean by 'properly', first comes the long underwear. It's special long underwear, though, black and made of lycra a.k.a spandex so when I put on the tops and bottoms I kind of look like a ninja (minus the mask). Next, either a cotton long-sleeved tee or a light, fleece sweater.
It really depends how cold it is outside. Then, thick, fleece pants and a hooded sweater. Finally, after wiggling around and adjusting the many layers of seams involved in my get-up so that I am at some level of comfort, I put on a toque (linked in case you're unfamiliar with the word), gloves, and then wrap a scarf around my face. The final stage is just a little more complicated, though, when it comes to the scarf. I wear glasses (one of the Reasons I'm Damn Fine that didn't make it into my 5 Reasons post) which means that I have to position the scarf just right so that when I exhale my glasses don't get all steamy from the chemistry that occurs when my excessive hotness meets the extreme cold. Of course, when I leave the house, every article of clothing is in its proper place looking fine. By the time I get about half way through a jog, however, everything has shifted to the point that I look like a hot mess. Really, though, there's only one kind of sweat hotter than workout sweat...

My educated (I'm smart, remember) guess is that my relationship with jogging will only get stronger as time goes by. If we happen to take the odd break every now and then, well, absence only makes the heart grow fonder. Me and jogging, we're the real deal!

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Reason #1 I'm Damn Fine - Spinoff

Thanks to my muse, Marjorie McAtee at "Don't Call Me Marge", I took it upon myself to write a copycat blog post. Hers. Mine. Since that post was so much fun to write, I've decided to do spinoffs of each of the 5 Reason's I'm Damn Fine.

Reason #1 was as follows: I'm an English Honours Student a.k.a I'm damn smart!

The fact that I tend to register in the upper levels of intelligence quotients is indicative of the fact that I am also inveigled to other homo sapiens that find themselves there as well.
In short I am a sapiosexual, a person whose sexual ori.entation is characterized by a strong attraction to intelligence in others (Urban Dictionary). Another definition that I quite like, perhaps because it is
prevalent to my undergraduate discipline, reads as follows: "Traditionally the attraction to intelligence, however it can also be extended to the attraction of proper, full sentences and the use of grammar" (again, Urban Dictionary, and no, I'm not citing properly because this is a blog and, frankly, I can't be bothered). Grammar is simple folks, really, it is!
Improper spelling and punctuation just isn't sexy, not at all, neither is suggesting we should eat grandpa. Use a damn comma would you?! On a lighter note, there are few things in life sexier than a man who reads. My mother once told me, "If you go home with somebody and they don't have books, don't fuck 'em!" - Ok, that wasn't my mother; it was the American Filmmaker, John Waters, but none-the-less fitting advice. Reading expands imagination, improves knowledge, and increases oratory skills, among other things. Each of these 'reasons you should read' leads me to one of many requirements when it comes to a suitable partner.

I, without a doubt, need intellectual stimulation in a relationship. I'm not entertained by conversation about the weather, the latest twitter trend, or what you had for breakfast (unless, of course, you're a gourmet chef and can explain, in intricate detail, the recipe and techniques you used; now that would be stimulating!)

This man, for instance, makes love to my mind every time he opens his mouth.
As does this man!
(Side note: BBC's Sherlock Holmes' real name is Benedict Cumberbatch) With a name like that, how could I decline an invitation to his mind-castle?! (Mind-castle is a reference from Series 2, Episode 2 The Hounds of Baskerville - watch it!)

Closely related to intellectual stimulation is social intercourse. A few random useless facts that have replaced any legitimate knowledge base you may have possessed at one point are not impressive. Random tidbits of knowledge do not make acceptable conversation topics. If you can't hold my attention by engaging my brain and interchanging thoughts with me, you don't stand a chance at being able to provide me with the thing I ultimately seek...

A nerdgasm!

Saturday, January 7, 2012

5 Reasons I'm Damn Fine and Why You Can't Have Any, Unless...

I wish I made the time to blog more, I really do. What I do find at least some time to do is follow other bloggers. After reading Marjorie McAtee's (don't call her Marge) "5 Reasons I'm Smokin' Hot and Why You Can't Have Any", I knew I had to take the time to do a similar post of my own. So, here it is...

Reason #1: I'm an English Honours Student a.k.a I'm damn smart!

I'm not just your typical undergraduate. I've been doing my degree part-time while working full-time for six years now (this is my last year). What I'm saying is, I work my ass off. The 'honours' part of my degree means I'm one of the smart kids. The highest my GPA could be is a 4.3. Mine's 3.85.

This also means that I read (a lot) and write (a lot). I either have my nose in a book or my fingers to a page...sometimes it's both, as in simultaneously (that means at the same time).

Why You Can't Have Any, Unless...
This one's really simple; you're just not as smart as me. Physical stimulation is simply not enough for this damn fine chick; I need intellectual stimulation. Unless you can name two Shakespeare plays other than Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet and at least one Jane Austen novel other than Pride and Prejudice, just forget it. Don't bother.

Reason #2: I jog a.k.a I work out!

Anyone who jogs is sexy and they know it, me included. When I jog down the street, pimpin' to my beats, people stop and stare. These are what I jog in.

Perhaps not as sexy as, say, animal print pants or a speedo, but pretty damn close. In sun, rain, snow, my Vibrams are on my feet as I jog on by.

Why You Can't Have Any, Unless...
When you walk on by, because I'm sure you don't jog, people don't say 'damn you fly'. My guess is you also know absolutely nothing about Vibrams and why people who are fine, like me, wear them. Unless you're seriously considering participating in at least a half marathon, forget it. You can't keep up.

Reason #3: I piss people off when I stand up for things I believe in a.k.a I'm a passionate bitch!

I only argue when I know I'm right, which is most, if not all, of the time. Actually, I wouldn't even say that I argue, I just state my opinion with every ounce of my being. What makes me even finer is that I'll actually give you the benefit of the doubt and listen to what you have to say. I won't even necessarily disagree with it. Just don't tell me I don't deserve the things I've worked damn hard for. Don't suggest I should just sit down and shut up when I become the voice for those who are unable to stand up for themselves. And for pity's sake, don't give me some half-assed sob story that's supposed to be worse than the stories I've heard from the African refugees I work with. Those things, among others, just piss me off.

Why You Can't Have Any, Unless...
You say 'bitch' like it's a bad thing. You think I'm dramatic. Rather than standing up for what you believe in, you just sit back and hope other people will do it for you. Unless you're going to listen to me and Betty White and grow a vagina (balls are weak and sensitive, vaginas, on the other hand, can take a pounding), fuck off and forget it. You and your baby balls aren't worth my time.

Reason #4: I'm saving the world one day at a time a.k.a I have a huge heart!

I already mentioned the African refugees so now I'll add HIV/AIDS awareness, fair trade promotion, and gender equality advocation.

I recently spent four months in Gaborone, Botswana preparing university students for their new lives in Canada. I visited families in rural Botswana who lived fifteen people to a house that was spacially smaller than my living room. I had the opportunity to pay for a tour guide to take me through a 'township' (that's the nicey nice word for a slum) so that I could show the people at home the atrocities that 'people in Africa' had to live through. I also had the opportunity to throw up in my mouth a little bit at the thought of exploiting these people and the way they live so that a fucking tour guide could make more money in an hour than the people in the township make in a year.

Did I mention I rocked a damn fine bald head after raising over $4000 for the Stephen Lewis Foundation?

Why You Can't Have Any, Unless...
I'm a better person than you. In short, ask yourself what you've done in the name of altruism lately? If it took you longer than five seconds to think of something, ask yourself what's wrong with yourself. Also, you likely spent more money on Christmas gifts (one fucking day) than you donated to charitable organisations all year. Unless you're willing to save the world with me by giving of yourself until there's nothing left to give, you're wasting my time. I don't waste time.

Reason #5: I don't believe in monogamy, I've taken lap dance classes, I prefer porn to rom coms!
Ok, so you actually got lucky; I gave you 7 Reasons I'm Damn Fine.

Monogamy is like reading the same book over and over - Mason Cooley. Typically, I don't read books more than once. If I like them, I buy them and put them on my bookshelf to cherish forever, but likely never touch them again. I wonder if I could do that with lovers?! Back to my
point, monogamy, it's not natural. That and according to the uber smart scientists on The Big Bang Theory, "when your prefrontal cortex fails to make you happy, promiscuity rewards you with the needed flood of dopamine."

Songs I can do choreographed lap dances too: Motivation, S&M, Pour Some Sugar On Me, and anything else you request if you give me some time.

Rom Com...guy meets girl, guy fucks up and loses girl, girl forgives guy, (ok, sometimes it's the girl that fucks up, but rarely), and then there's the epic make up make out session. BORING! "Why don't they ever make a movie about what happens after the big kiss?" - "They do. It's called porn." - Friends With Benefits (and ya, that's one of those lame Rom Coms, but at least it had some laugh-worthy lines). My point, PORN wins and what's hotter than a damn fine chick that digs porn.

Why You Can't Have Any, Unless...
You actually thought I would link to a real PORN site. Really?! If I asked you to give me a song request to which I would then give you a lap dance to, you'd say something like "I'm Too Sexy" - Really?! You think you and you alone are enough to please me. Really?! Unless you have an impeccable eye for films, an incredible ear for music, and are willing to share like you learned to in Kindergarten, don't even start. I'll get bored.

--Thanks cafepress.com and dreamstime.com for the sexy silhouettes--