Thursday, July 8, 2010

Hot and Cold, I'm Ron Burgundy?

Am i really as horrible as i think i am or is it just my mind that leads me to believe that I'm thinking I'm as terrible as i say i am....... where were we?

So, this smoking hot body walks by me the other day, and i mean this in the most literal sense- it was honestly just a body, her head seized to exist for some reason or another. God bless that skimpy little layer of material; you know what I'm talking about... that tiny layer of material that makes it socially acceptable for females to jam out with their clams out.

So women are now practically walking around town throwing their unmentionables in my face and by unmentionables clearly I mean their VJ's--NO, not a Video Jockey(if that's what you're into, I suggest you apply for a job at Much Music). They call this attire "t'n'a" ...Lululemon also puts on an excellent display but they turned over to the dark side when scantily clad wannabe gym homo's started walking down Bay street with their camels hanging out.
ANNNNNYYYYYWAYS.... back to my point- I'm certain i had one! So little miss t'n'a' passes me by and i strain my neck as if it were absolutely imperative that i see what kind of junk she had up in her trunk; turns out her trunk was 27X more fun than anything Mr. Dressup was rocking- may he rest in peace, love you M.D.!!!!

After this brief glimpse of perfection, i slowly brought my head back to 12 O'clock, although at about 3 O'clock I came to find a greasy ass grease-ball adjusting his neck and his crotch for that matter. After his 4.5 seconds in paradise he looks directly into my eyes and grins at me rather suggestively. With a sinister expression on his face he motions towards me with a nod of approval. Yes, this was a genetic masterpiece we were admiring and yes it deserved a good hard look but this rather suggestive head nod just solidified what i already knew.... I'm a filthy perv with the worst intentions!

In other news: This obnoxious monster walked by me the other day sporting an incredibly revealing shirt and spouting off about the retail industry. Now; i have no idea what took place prior to or post interaction with the two females(AKA. Jabba The Hut and Chewbacca) but what i did manage to take from this was a juicy one liner in which only i would ever find funny. The Heavier female said and i quote "Fuck that fucking bitch, you see what fucking retail does to you?" naturally; the rebuttal in my head to a question never physically posted to me.... "Make you overtly fat?"

Ooh, almost forgot to mention.... This Just In: On my way in to work today i passed quite an interesting character. She may have been a superhero of sorts, i haven't quite figured that one out as of yet. My new BFF was wearing.... drum roll pleeeeease BDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD..... A FUCKING black leather suit??!?!?!?! It was 42 goddamn degrees today with the Humidex!!! It was so bloody hot today that i turned on my TV and it said "not today chief!" My black dog went outside and burst into flames like a Metro Toronto police cruiser. The words "EXTREME HEAT ALERT" were headlined on every digital billboard and news station in the city. What in the fuck possessed this women to say "Hey what should i wear today? ....shorts? No ....Skirt? No. AHHH i got it! I'll wear a fucking leather suit!!!" GENIUS!!!!!! My favourite part to all this and an it brings an exciting conclusion to my story is that she came wielding an Umbrella. This wasn't just any ordinary Rihanna umbrella, it was one of those umbrellas that protect you so that the rest of the world can't see the face of a true champion!

So let the speculation begin- or continue, possibly conclude. Bryan Floyd: Worst guy ever? Possibly.

-Milk Was a Bad Choice!

Peace Out Kids!

Monday, March 15, 2010

Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200.... Floyd, You're Broke!

By far the greatest feeling in the world... reaching into your back pocket to discover a deflated denim pouch with no leather anywhere to be found(I swear, i say this with not even a hint of sarcasm). You take your hand out of your pocket only to reach back in 4.5 seconds later and feel the same anguish all over again. No matter how much you think/want that money holding pouch to be there, you know its sitting neatly on your night table next to that browning banana peel you left there 2 nights ago.

So here it is.... i speak only from experience, and yes i realize that I'm a tool! I made my morningly trek to the bus stop of which i frequently utilize and by frequent i mean quite frequent, and by that i mean multiple times a day, every single day of my life. I don't have a licence nor do i really see the need for one at this juncture of my life. I say this only because i had more money when i was 10 than I've had in all of 2010..... therefore the reality of Bryan Floyd owning a vehicle in retrospect is not realistic at all. After my 1,140 second round trip from my house-to the bus stop-back to my house-back to the bus stop, i realize that I'm complete fucking idiot! I wait for another bus which will ultimately make me late for work, not a common practice for me as i like to be known as that guy who's always early.... or on time at the very least. On my now second venture to work at 5am i see the blue LED lights of the 37South in the distance, i immediately feel the anxiety for no apparent reason this time around and half-frantically check my back pocket. I check and re-check my denim ass-pouch in the same fashion that a person with obsessive compulsive disorder checks the mail box, they know that the mail is gone but are always skeptical of that flap actually delivering their paper envelope.

Back to my original point... i swear i had a somewhat insignificant point to make, or not make when the idea to write this blog popped into my simple little mind. Anyways, there i was standing at the bus doors like a loafer on a dinner date... "Ahhh, you wanna pick this one up? I forgot my wallet in the car". Not to say that I'm any better then those i speak of in my previous rant but I'm a student thus granting me the right to be shit-broke! My wallet holds no more than a layer of leather separating my maxed out credit cards from a business card of some asshole I'll never need to contact, a bus pass for the month of march and an expired pita pit punch card. Nobody told me that I'd transform into this shit-poor asshole when i enrolled in college.... Optimus Dime, Broke-a-Tron? That's right, i sometimes look in the mirror and see the fucking monopoly man with his pockets turned out. As a side note... and i know this may be slightly stereotypical but where the fuck are mustachio McMoneybags monocle and ear horn anyways? I swear he used to carry those things around with him all the time back in the day, cruisin' the boardwalk looking all suave... unless he got jumped for them outside of Baltic Avenue. I thought that college would be the high life, ballin' out of control like the kids say. I honestly thought I'd be livin' like Hef, diddling blondes and poppin' bubbly in the hot tub wearing my gold plated speedo.... sooooo not the case!!! Instead i live like the guy who sits on the corner of Queen and University stroking his pet rat but without the class. Annnnnnyways...... clearly I've forgotten what the hell it is that i even set out to say here so I'm gonna go for lunch and see if there's anything left in my chequing account. You wanna pick up the bill? I think my wallet's in my other jacket....

Peace Out, Floyd.

Monday, March 8, 2010

"I'm feeling Very Olympic Today".... The Olympics, Where The F Did they Go?!!

My feelings towards the Olympics in the past where similar to that of my feelings towards Goldfish... they're kinda cool at first but i quickly realize that i don't give a shit!

Sooooo anyways, there i was on the edge of my seat cheering on that cute little Frenchman from something-or-another-ville Quebec when I was overwhelmed with this sense of pride. It felt a little funny at first, started as a twinkle in my toes and moved up giving me the goosebumps like the first time i watched Debbie Does Dallas. It became this hurricane of emotions, possibly even a tornado but without Bill Paxton or Helen Hunt. I jumped off of my couch and through the ceiling tile. It was a truly nail biting finish that sent every maple syrup wielding Canuck into a Canadian flag waving frenzy.

Lets take the Delorean back to the '76 Montreal Summer Olympics, and the '88 Winter Olympics in Calgary shall we. The proud Canuck's didn't even know Gold Medals existed. They had gold rings, gold watches and gold necklaces but no Olympic bling to speak of. Just a though... the summer Olympics are one thing, but the Winter Olympics, C'MON!!!!! You would almost be lead to believe that the Canadians would flourish in the cold climates.... not the case! The Canadians missed the big-boy step of the podium in both Olympics. Fast-forward... or skip a few chapters on your Blu Ray player, with this years addition of the "Own the Podium" campaign, there was actually support and much more focus on the success of our athletes. The COC, yes i said it... the COC introduced "Own the Podium" campaign making sure we would not be embarrassed on home soil again. That's right folks your Canadian athletes were actually given a few extra bucks as opposed to the scraps they received in the past. A little bit more than the couch cushion pennies they were given in Montreal and Calgary. After a heart breaking, tear jerking, weather permitting, traitorous start to the Vancouver 2010 Olympics where even the soft and tender candor of Donald Sutherland's voice couldn't sooth the soul, the fog finally lifted over the mogul run at Cypress Mountain, setting the stage for Canada's first gold. Our cute little Canadian mogulist Alexandre Bilodeau finally gave our nation Olympic pride! Ah c'est si bon, c'est fantastique!!!

A few days after the COC announces that Canada will NOT own the podium.... what do we do? We own that fucking podium snatching 10 golds and 16 total medals in the final week sticking it to the COC... ugghhh... yeeeeaaahh. February 28th becomes a day that will be etched in the hearts and minds of citizens all over this great country. Not to say that Canada saved the best event for last but really, hockey is a Canadian sport, we weren't going to lose at home... and who the fuck really cares about cross country skiing??!!! Knotted at 2's after a crowd deflating Zach Parise tally with 24 ticks left on the clock, we were going to overtime. In a Team Canada dominated extra frame, we were determined to take back what's rightfully ours. Cue Chris Cuthbert from the press box of Canada Hockey Place... "Crosby SCORES! SIDNEY CROSBY, the golden goal! And Canada has once-in-a-lifetime Olympic gold!" WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Crosby, not only proved his Olympic worth with this goal but lifted Canada to a record 14 gold medals while bringing together the whopping 80% of Canadians that were glued to their Television sets at the time. A sense of unity set in as we were all Canadian on that faithful day. The words O'Canada were sung/shouted at the tops of our lungs as tears of joy filled our eyes and we couldn't find words to say outside of urban street language and the occasional F-Bomb. We hugged, we kissed... we delivered high fives that never connected, statistically the poorest high five rating in the history of high five delivery. Oh what a feeling... O'Canada!!!

Anyways, back to the cute little French-man... We haven't forgotten about you Alex Bilo.....something or another. He will still go down in history as the first Canadian to win gold on home soil just like Jon Montgomery will go down as the first Canadian to win gold and get shitfaced before having even changed out of his unitard. We overcame tragedy, weather, hell and high-water, we overcame adversity as a nation and finally were rewarded with precious gold. Not to be confused with pirate gold.

With the Olympics still close to my heart, i often find myself sitting on the couch spilling Cap'N Crunch all down my chest as my eyes tear up. Covered in sweetened corn and oat breakfast kernels, I browse the "Olympic Consortium" channels in the hopes of just one more gimps of its majesty. I pray that it was all a dream and it's magically one month prior to my milky/cereal disaster but to no avail. I don't much care for the summer Olympics so i guess its another 4 years of me covered in milk and brown sugar. I've gotta say though, i find it rather unfortunate for these athletes. Amateur sport is so glorified in the Olympics being put under this gigantic microscope and given this Hollywood-like complex, then 2 months after it wraps up nobody gives a flying shit about Luge for another 4 years.

The Olympics, where the F did they go? We love you AJ Billabong... or whatever your name is....

Peace Out Friends