A Broad Abroad

The time has come for me to take my crazy to an international level.

Further explanation? Why yes, of course!

A few weeks ago I got home, pissed drunk in my usual demeanor, when I logged onto my computer and started chatting with strangers.   There I met Mark.  Mild mannered reporter? No.  Pharmacist with a twinkle in his eye? Yes.

Over the next few weeks, we bonded how friends bond, and he invited me to go to Europe with him on a previously planned trip he had in the works.  At first I said no, like any sane person, we barely know each other.  Then over a few weeks of talking, and his carefully construed whittling down of my resolve, I recognized that I am not any sane person.  I’m Kimberley goddammit, and I make these kinds of decisions all the time.

So off we will go!  In one week, we will go to Denmark, Holland,  France, and Belgium!

We’re going to have a travel blog, so that everyone can keep up on our shenanigans, and most of all, ensure that I don’t end up murdered without leaving clues to my latest whereabouts.

The movie Taken has given my friends gross things to imagine happening to me, but, being the ever bright-eyed optimist I always am, I have found silver linings to all possible scenarios that could go wrong.

Horrific Scenario: Get murdered

Bright-side:  Die in Europe! So much cooler than dying in the country of your birth.

Horrific Scenario:  Get sold into the sex slavery by either Mark, or a handsome stranger.

Bright-side: Finally have a job that I enjoy!  Nothing like going to work with a smile on your face.  Plus all the drugs they give you, don’t they know how much money they’d be saving me?  Suckaaaaaaas!!!!

Just another day at the office…

Horrific Scenario: Get scammed out of my money and left behind by my travel companion.

Bright-side: Hopefully he’ll do this in France, so at least I can be a bum in Paris.  Maybe I’d learn to draw, or sing!  All I’d need is a hat for change, and a strong upper body for tackling other hobos and stealing their Euros.

The first rule about BUMFIGHTCLUB…wash your fucking hands

So yep, that is what I’m going to be doing!  I will post the link to our Travel Blog as soon as we get that crap figured out.


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Recently it was Valentine’s Day.  Needless to say, I was thrilled….

Now, just because I don’t have a monogamous penis in my life, it doesn’t mean that I can’t feel the love.  For instance, yesterday, my love was directed towards my good friend Tanya.  Tanya gave me a heart shaped chocolate at work, so naturally, I reciprocated with a heartfelt poem.


You stole my heart, this Valentine’s Day

I started to think, I might be gay


Your hair, your eyes, your mouth, those boobies

The last time I smiled this much, I smoked 3 doobies


Your laugh’s as infectious, as HIV

You’re my Beyonce, and I’m Jay-Z


Your muscles aren’t big, but that’s ok, cause I’m strong

If I were a guy, I’d do you with my schlong


I love you so much, I’d hitch my horse to your cart

Cause this Valentine’s Day, you’ve stolen my heart

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Plenty Of Fucking Idiots

I’m on an online dating site called Plenty of Fish and my name on it is Janice_Rubeeee.   It started off as something my friends and I made to entertain ourselves one night, and now I’m addicted to it.  Clearly it’s a big fat joke, to me, and anyone with a brain.  However, some people on the internet are very brainless, or are thinking with the other heads, which contrary to their claims, are actually very small.

I get about 40 emails a day.  Some guys try to be nice and ask me how my day is, others just write stupid generic messages of ‘hey‘ which I will never respond to, and some write things that are a little worse. 

Here is a compilation of the best messages I’ve gotten.  Spelling and punctuation are copied directly, and any swear words that have been asterisked out by POF I’ve reinstated.

Aren't I fucking hot?!

Cr***7: call me got my own place and everything real nice so call me bye ps i got bonner problems

Janice_Rubeee: And spelling problems

This guy went on to rant at me and I just started to correct his grammar until he told me, “fuc off whitey”

ic******87: are you single. do you have msn or fb ok. ih there you look very sexy and i like your tits. i’m a 25 year old man i live in fauquier bc if you dont know where this town is google maps/fauquier bc. you should come down here and chill ou with me in my bed

I never replied to this guy. But I love that he complimented my tits when my arms are in the way of them. Yep…they are that nice…


Wet*****s: Hey! How is your day going so far?

Janice_Rubeeee: That’s a bit of a personal question don’t you think?

Wet*****s: I don’t think that’s rude at all, or personal, a personal question would be something like asking what your financial situation is.

Janice_Rubeeee: Got me there


Johnny***in: your fucked up i like that i think i have the gerth your looking for i just got out of prison so if that doesnt scare you off we should chat take a look at my profile an get back to me my favourite pornstar is sasha grey cause she’s down for anything

I also didn’t reply to this one cause I don’t want to be murdered.


Blue*********uy: Have you hored yourself out lately

Blue*********uy:  I thought you where into fucking for cash, guess not

Janice_Rubeeee: you won’t pay enough

Blue**********uy: have you been fucking guys from here, how much

Blue**********uy: K  im ready to pay, im fucking horny. I have to run out leave your number and how
much ill call you tonight

Blue**********uy: You suck at this

Blue**********uy: you never did tell me how much

Janice_Rubeeee: I said 500 and you laughed and said 50

Blue**********uy: right im thinking more like 200

Janice_Rubeeee: nah

It’s nice to know I have something to fall back on if life doesn’t work out…

Po******ty: You have a dildo collection? There’s a dildo out there shaped like me! Lol

Janice_Rubeeee: so you’re saying you’re a dildo?


W****n:Hey I’m 25 and I’m sure I know what you want and I’ll give it to you like you might barely have got it from anyone else, so drop me a msg and we will plan something soon. My pic here is 2 yrs old . If you’re I treated , we can add each other on facebook


Might barely have got it from anyone else       ??????? 

My pic here is 2yrs old      Well that’s good to know so I can have a crush on what you used to look like.

AND if he treats me, I can creep him on facebook! ahhhhhhhh, a winner : )


2Hu*****n: Hey, wanna get spitroasted by 2 hung dudes? We have drinks and have 420 and can host

Janice_Rubeeee: No one has ever offered me dinner before!

2Hu******n: Ya…so do you wanna come over?

Janice_Rubeeee: This is going to be so romantic!


This next one will have you vomitting down your own chest, so brace yourself. 

Pr*******en: Hey baby just checking you out and I like what I read I’m very sexual freaky bisexual and into some nasty taboo shit would love to hook up with you and have to shove some of those dildos in my ass 🙂 get back

Janice_Rubeeee: Tell me more. In intricate detail.

Pr******en:  So baby what would you like to know sorry buy I’m not very big around 6inches I love licking ass,guys or girls and I have a footfetish, so I’d love to suck on your toes and have you shove your big toe up my ass I love getting fucked in ass my girls wearing strap on and I’ve fucked my cousins and one of my aunts I think incest is sexy 🙂 if you like get at me soon I’m deleting this account soon baby

I know I egged him on but I’m almost sorry I asked….Almost.

I also have a guy friend who is on POF and this is his profile…it’s not him in the picture, but the picture is amazing in itself : ) He doesn’t get much mail.

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The Skytrain

Since moving from Calgary to Vancouver(ish) I’ve upgraded from the C-Train to the Skytrain.  Although it’s not always in the sky per se, I still enjoy it very much.   Well, as much as you can enjoy transit. 

There are always people who are so fucking weird on it.  And the best part of that is, is that no one is immune to being called out as a weirdo.  Weirdos look at me and think I’m weird.  I look back at them and know they’re mostly right, but think I’m not as fucked as they are.          

A few weeks ago my friend Jessica and I were on the train on our way downtown to meet our friend on a chilly January afternoon.  We found 2 seats together, sat, and started chatting as we careened down the track. 

“Blah blah blah” said Jessica.

“Blah blah” I replied.


We looked at each other nervously as we deduced the noise had come from behind us.  We prattled on,

“Blah blah, blah blah blah? Blah blah blah!” enthused Jessica.

“Blah,” I replied nonchalantly.


We looked back to see an older man who was quite disgusting trying repeatedly to dislodge some phlegm from the depths of his body.

Jessica, “Wanna move?”

Me, “Yup”

We got up from our seats and raced down to the other side of the car.  We sat down, our chests heaving, and

What the fuck is that smell!?!” I bellowed at the surrounding transit riders.  No one answered me.  Jessica audibly gagged.

It smelled like rotten Cheetos, goat farts and vomit.  It was so thick in the air I had no idea how it hadn’t infiltrated the entire train car.  If Roseanne Barr decided to douche with water from an un-maintained fish tank, that is how I would describe the smell.  Holy fucking shit it stunk. We sat there trying not to breathe as the train carried on down the track.  My eyes grazed over all the possible suspects.  The old asian man.  The bum in plaid.  The woman who was trying to act like she didn’t smell the smell.  The woman who obviously smelled the smell.   I decided it was the bum in plaid and I glared at him.

Jessica nudged me and whispered, “Let’s get the fuck off this train at the next stop”

I nodded in agreement and shot more eye daggers at the bum. 

The train pulled up to the station and as soon as the doors opened we burst out them and started running down the platform to the next closest train car. 

“Fuckkkkkk!” I cried

“Ew ew ew ew ew!” went Jessica

“Oh my god!!!!!” yelled the woman who’d obviously smelled the smell and was barreling down the platform right behind us.  The 3 of us got onto the next train car and started lamenting loudly about the ordeal we’d just endured much to the delight of a whole new gang of strangers who had no idea what we were talking about. 

I just don’t understand smelly people who think it’s a good call to go into a poorly ventilated, small public space, and just sit there. And act like you don’t stink.  Go shower! Go stand under a rain gutter if you don’t have a shower!  Stinking doesn’t keep you warm at night, I don’t know why you feel the need to cling to that smell, fucking bum in plaid.

Other things that drive me batty are lovers on transit.   I find most forms of PDA disgusting, and seeing it while I’m trying to get somewhere makes me confused and angry. 

The offenders were not nearly as good-looking as this couple

I was waiting for a train the other day and this 20-something girl was getting on the train, and her boyfriend-type character was kissing her goodbye.  Cute? Sure. The not cute part?  She was standing inside the train doors, he was standing right outside them.  They were holding up the train and I was rooting under my breath for the doors to shut and squish them both.  Then she got on…and he followed her!  They had no goddamn reason to hold up that train other than the fact they thought they were being all cutesy and romantic, and there is nothing I despise more than ugly people who don’t know how nasty they are. 

Another thing that bothers me is people who don’t know what size they are.  Like fat people who are oblivious to the people they bump into, rub out, and sit on. 

For instance, this very morning, I was sitting on the train.  In the middle of the cars are bench like seats, with maybe 8 seats on each side.  I was sitting in the 3rd seat, with an open seat on my left hand side, a woman to my right, and on the seat 2 over to the left was another woman, so the seat between us was open.  Now, for the average sized person, you only really sit between 2 people if the train is very crowded, cause it’s not spacious, and it’s very personal bubble-y invasive.   We approached a stop, the doors opened, and a woman who was no joke, over 6ft tall and over 350lbs came in, made a bee-line for that middle seat, and shoved herself into it. 

She sat on me.  She also sat on the other woman. And she didn’t even flinch.  She rode 2 stops sitting there indignantly on my lap with her fat ass and colony of chins, and finally 2 seats turned up a bit further down and she pounced on those like the wildebeest she was.  As soon as she got off I looked at the other woman who had been sat on and she gave me the most terrified glance I’ve ever seen.  She was slight and in her early 50’s and I’m sure she rushed right home to get her will in order in case that were to ever happen again. 

I can’t imagine being so rude as to sit on another person and act like it was my right to do so, but I guess some people are just a little different.  I’m more than sure I’ll run into a plethora of these kinds of heathens in the next few months while I transit my little heart out to and fro school.  So until then, happy trails, and watch out for belligerent obese people.

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New Years Resolution *Take 26*

I’m over the cookie cutter self-improving resolutions of New Years past. 

I’ve  never lost weight, I’ve never gotten rich, and I’ve never married a celebrity.   What I have done is regress year by year, into more of a childish, egotistic, mumble talking,  slut-mobile.

What kind of resolutions does a person of this stature make?

Here are mine for 2011

1.   Not be crazy

As fun as it looks on TV, not as fun in real life.  I used to be gleefully insane, now I think I’m just losing it.  I’m hoping to get back to what I used to be.

2. Vacuum more often

This is something that I have no idea why I don’t do it.  My room always looks like a dog groomers with the amount of stray hair floating around.  It bunches into gross little hair colonies that I kick around with my slippers yelling ‘Ew!’ cause I think they’re  mice or something.    And I even enjoy vacuuming, and it really takes no time.  I like to take the attachments off so that it’s just the nozzle thing and I pretend to be an anteater sucking everything up off the floor.  So ya, uh, vacuuming in 2011.

3.   Become Sneakier

Anyone who knows me knows that I am already incredibly sneaky.   But there is always room for improvement.   I’ve watched all the Jason Bourne films, I’m decent at somersaults, and I’m trying to get rid of my cold so I don’t have the sniffles (a dead giveaway).  Pretty much, there isn’t a lot left to do, but when I find it, I will do it…  And then I’ll be where you least suspect me, and overall, can’t detect me.

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Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas errrbody!

To commemorate the day, here is a poem that I wrote a few (billion) years ago when I was 19 and spending my first Christmas away from home with my then roommate Carly.

Twas the night before Christmas, at Carly and Kim’s

They were drunk as fuck, couldn’t move their limbs

The bottles were strewn, all over the floor

As the girls hoped and prayed, that there would be more

The girls were hammered, their blood laced with rum

With hopes that their 40, soon would be done

The surroundings were quiet, peaceful at best

Then Kim stumbled into a wall, murmuring, “I’m a fucking mess”

And Carly cackled, from her chair with glee

And soon exclaimed, “I have to pee!”

They talked and giggled, in Christmas delight

When suddenly came, a noise from the night

“On Smirnoff, on Wisers, on Stoli and Bacardi!

I parked my sled here so I could party!”

The girls stared at Santa, as if covered in mud

When he busted out his pipe, and dropped in a bud

They smoked themselves silly, and ate tons of food

Santa’s good chronic, sure lightened the mood

Yet Santa soon made, his way out the door

And left Kim and Carly, fucked up on the floor

His eyes were glazed, as he drove out of sight

“What the fuck!” yelled Santa,

“Those bitches stole my pipe!”

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The Owl

Every person resembles something other than themself.  I once knew a guy who looked like a frog.  And a girl who looked like Avril Lavigne.   I also knew a girl who looked like the black spy from Spy vs Spy

I have never heard that I look like anything  ever, until one snowy night in Calgary, I finally found out what I resemble. 

Here’s what happened.

My friends TJ, Dave, Chase and I were all hanging out in Chase’s basement one night, smoking pot and eating candy.   We were having a grand old-time, there were skittles, runts, gobstoppers, nerds, licorice, and diabetes was knocking on our collective doors. 

We were getting our blaze on pretty good when Chase started looking at me funny.

“Kim, did anyone ever tell you you look like an owl?”

Now, I don’t mind people saying weird things to me, in fact, I revel in it.  But I just so happened to mis-hear Chase.  And what I heard was,

“Kim, did anyone ever tell you you look like Al?”

It just so happens, that Al is the name of my dad, and none of my friends knew him, so I wondered what Al they meant.

So the whole exchange went like this,

“Kim, did anyone ever tell you you look like an owl?”

Me, “Who?”

The boys erupted in a fit of stoner laughter while I sat there with my handfuls of sugar, completely baffled.  I grew frustrated that I’d missed the joke.

“Who?! Who?!”

More laughter.


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