“gals give some sneaky hints” by Julia on the 47 going north


Tuesday February 24, 2015
6:35pm
5 minutes
blog.muchmusic.com

Don’t want to give you any false raised hope, but there will be a surprise tonight that is going to blow your mind. I promised Angela I wouldn’t say what was going down, but it’s your freaking birthday, dude, it’s not like you don’t expect some wicked cool event to happen in your complete and perfect honour. I pinky swore your girlfriend that I would keep all details of this extravagant celebratory secret to myself. But I thought about it, and I was like, dude needs to know what to wear, you know, how is he supposed to dress himself without a dress code! What is this, New Years? No. Not even close. That phrase doesn’t really work here, cause I actually stole it from my ex-boyfriend who used to say it all the time, and the way he did it was so funny, so I was trying to be funny. Anyway, he also hated surprises. Or, no, he hated when surprises got ruined. And, yeah, the reaction to the “SURPRISE!!!!!” Is really only as good as the secret kept, but I still maintain that you would be happier walking into your favourite place, with all your favourite people, knowing that it was happening, so you could fill your face with honest gratitude and appreciation. You’re welcome, dude!

“On those grey days” by Sasha in her bed


Wednesday, January 16, 2013
7:01pm
5 minutes
Running With Scissors
Augusten Burroughs


On those grey days, on those sad, lonely, sniffle-sniffle days, on those days when you don’t care if it’s oatmeal or granola as they’re both made of oats; on those long days, on those drab days, on those puddle-puddle sore days, I think about the time I almost got a surprise party.

I’d been engaged to Hugh for seven months. I was turning twenty-nine. My birthday is in February… He was still living with his father up in Collingwood, helping him with the cabinet-making. I was working overtime as a Law Clerk. It was a job that I loathed more than anything, more than the smell of bleach, more than cauliflower, more than hangnails. I’d tried to get the day off but, alas, my Grade-A-Asshole boss had said, “Nope!” As I watched the clock go from five fifty-nine to six, Hugh walked into the office. I hated it when he did this but I tried to excuse it, given the circumstance.