Let’s NOT cue the drama… Mmmm K?

I hate drama, I detest it.  I also hate attention whores and drama Queens.  Oh and people who lie for stupid, insignificant reasons.  Hell I just hate people in general!  Especially lately, maybe it’s because I have PMS? Who knows, and quite frankly I doubt anyone truly gives a shit either.

Attention whores, drama queens and what I refer to as ‘the topper’ really get my panties in a knot.  Also ‘pissing contents’ because really, who needs those?

Apparently some people do.

I want to punch them in the face.

Really hard.

Some people just can not handle not being the center of attention.  Drives. Me. Insane.  For example: When I’m talking about something I feel is important and they butt in with ya ya so they can blab on about their shit.

Is THAT the only reason you called me?  Because you want a fucking audience?!?

Please go get hit by a bus. Drop dead Shut your whore mouth for five fucking minutes!

Jesus H Christ!

Then there’s the times when your having a conversation about whatever and something not totally relevant/yet slightly relevant to your story comes up.   Something that your not planning on driveling on about for any extended period of time but more so providing more background info on.  They butt in with yeah I went/was there/seen it too.  Yet somehow you know they’re lying to you so you ask a question that had they actually seen/done the same thing on a different day/month/year they would provide an accurate answer.  Except they get all exasperated and flippant with you.  Because they know that you know they’re lying through their fucking teeth!  Why?  Because they thought YOU were going to talk about it endlessly, therefore taking time away from listening to them blather on about What. The Fuck Ever.  Because while they want YOU to be THEIR audience for the entire duration of the conversation yet they don’t have one fucking iota of interest in anything that’s about to come out of your mouth unless it has something to do with THEM.

Of. Course.

Except they think your stupid and don’t clue into their subtle lies.  Yet YOU know they’re lying.  In spite of the fact that I don’t say anything about it.  I know.  Oh boy, do I know.  Therefore because of your tactless bullshit, I have lost a whole lotta respect for you that you’ll never have back.  Oh I bet that gets your goat now doesn’t it?

When all you want to do is say: I don’t care, I don’t care Ohhhhhhhhhhh I Don’t give a flying fuck about What. The. Fuck. Ever. You’re about to drivel on about!

Woman like to relate, although some people take it to a WHOLE new level.  It goes from relating to: OMGWTFBBQ I’m out of the spotlight so let’s turn this into a pissing contest!  Because the attention NEEDS TO BE BACK ON ME, ME, ME!

Sadly, I can’t usually back down from these moments.  I try to, I’m usually ashamed when I can’t.  I’m competitive by nature, it’s the inner Chef in me (Read: All the guys who said I wouldn’t make it but I did; so fuck you, kiss my pasty white ass!) oh & my stubborn pigheaded ways that can’t Won’t refuse to do so.  When inside my head I’m screaming:


Nope, they can’t allow that, because it takes the spotlight OFF of them.

My fist is really itching to make an acquaintance with your face.

Yet I say nothing because that’s irrevocably rude.  Until one day when you push me over the ever loving edge.

Well so is blogging about it, but hey I’m not name calling and finger pointing here either.

Wonder just how many people are going to contact me AND accusingly  SAY OMFG STEPH I JUST KNOW YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT ME!

They’re going to assume that’s it’s about them.  Why?  Because they see themselves in this very blog post.  Perhaps there’s a reason for that.

Because that’s in their nature.  So is scores of several other things, but hey who am I to judge?

Random funny for the day…

Things to do in an elevator when your bored:

1) CRACK open your briefcase or handbag, peer Inside and ask “Got enough air in there?”
2) STAND silent and motionless in the corner facing the wall without getting off.
3) WHEN arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank the doors open, then act as if you’re embarrassed when they open themselves.
4) GREET everyone with a warm handshake and ask him or her to call you Admiral.
5) MEOW occasionally.
6) STARE At another passenger for a while. Then announce in horror: “You’re one of THEM” – and back away slowly
7) SAY -DING at each floor.
8 ) SAY “I wonder what all these do?” And push all the red buttons.
9) MAKE explosion noises when anyone presses a button.
10) STARE, grinning at another passenger for a while, then announce: “I have new socks on.”
11) WHEN the elevator is silent, look around and ask: “Is that your beeper?”
12) TRY to make personal calls on the emergency phone.
13) DRAW a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other passengers: “This is my personal space.”
14) WHEN there’s only one other person in the elevator, tap them on the shoulder, then pretend it wasn’t you.
15) PUSH the buttons and pretend they give you a shock. Smile, and go back for more.
16) ASK if you can push the button for other people but push the wrong ones.
17) HOLD the doors open and say you’re waiting for your friend. After a while, let the doors close and say “Hi Greg, How’s your day been?”
18) DROP a pen and wail until someone reaches to help pick it up, then scream: “That’s mine!”
19) BRING a camera and take pictures of everyone in the lift.
20) PRETEND you’re a flight attendant and review emergency procedures and exits with the Passengers.
21) SWAT at flies that don’t exist.
22) CALL out “Group hug” then enforce it.

Next time I’m in an elevator, I just might give this a go.  Heh.

Adrenaline & why I hate it so much…

Not the ‘rush’, I am of course referring to the tattoo studio.

You see, my lovely friend Ania always keeps me (and countless others) updated on all the going’s on in the modification world.  In several different languages no less!  Although her last two postings as of late have included opinions from that dreaded tattoo studio!  Every time someone (by someone I mean media related) wants a damn opinion on tattooing/related body modifications they mention those fucking tools on Sherbrooke street!  There are SO. Many. Other. Places. To. Call.

Why the hate?  Well perhaps it’s because I’m biased (I am) and I happen to have an enormous amount of respect for my tattoo artists.  They both do quite well without the pomp and circumstance that Adrenaline has.  It’s simple, down to earth and to me…

It’s home.

I feel comfortable enough to run around in my socks and underwear at both the Exotic skin shop (located at 398 King East Kitchener, ON, N2G 2L5) all the information and directions can be found here owned and operated by Tim Karn in the same location for over 20 years no less!  Also Jolly Roger’s here in Montreal.

Yes in case you are wondering I have run around in my socks and underwear at both places!

Now, I personally know scores and scores of other amazing tattoo artists across the globe that I have a ton of respect for too.  Gil & Tim though?  Those boys are my kind of people.  You walk into their shops and there is no mistaking what your walking into.  It’s the epitome of your a-typical old school tattoo shop.  The kind of place that you can hang out, swear and chill in your panties and ain’t no one going to give a shit.  Honesty is forthcoming, no bullshit and almost down to the minute quotes!  Gil especially has a knack for this and Tim well I walk in there and say this is what I would like, I have this much money.  Make me look pretty!  Please 🙂  He does!  Neither of them disappoint (at least not yet and Tim and I have been ‘married’ for 10+ years and Gil and I have had an affair for a few years running now).  I always get what I want out of the pieces I choose, they’re always honest with me if they think that the location or the colors won’t work and when I go see Tim and book and appointment, he pretty much closes down the shop for ME.

Now that’s love.

Then you have Adrenaline…  Take a look at their virtual tour, don’t know about you but looks to me like I just stepped into a fucking mall or an A&F store!  Caters to the ‘yuppie Euro trash’ that Montreal is filled with.  I went in there once, back when I was still married and was co-owner of my own tattoo studio.  It was appalling to me to see the EXACT same pieces that wholesale for maybe $10.00 a piece jacked up to $100.00+ dollars.  HELLO INFLATION!  Sadly, we have been conditioned that if it costs more, then it’s better right?  I beg to differ.  I’m ALL about quality over quantity, which is why I totally heart Anatometal these guys are full of win!  Yes a little more costly then say the made in China by a five year old in a sweat shop but they quality will blow your mind!  It’s like the Rolls Royce of body Jewelry.  One Tribe Organics is another class of people who WIN!  Nope, I have no direct affiliation with them, I just love them so damn much, they deserve kudos!  When I go shopping for clothes, i’ll go to the Eaton center, when I want a tattoo I sure as hell won’t get tattooed in a place that has this ridiculous retail rock-a-billy-wannabe punk, Ed Hardy gear vomited all over my studio space.  That’s one reason why I hate them

Anyway back to the hate rant.  I had a friend who went in for your typical Kanji tattoo.  Nothing wrong with that, something simple, just her name.  She wanted it done in purple, her artist said NO.  Excuse me?  Said it had to be done in black.  Said it was too small to fill in with purple.


I’m sorry come again?

After being tattooed for almost a 100 hours at this point in my life, immersing myself in the tattoo ‘sub-culture’, knowing some very talented people and so forth I can NOT stress to people enough to EDUCATE YOURSELF.  Or at least pick up the phone and call me!  You know, your over the top tattooed friend?  She admits she wished she called me first. Everyone I know that has tattoos/is an artist all said WTF that shit ain’t right.  I couldn’t agree more!  Who says that your tattoo has to be outlined, let alone filled in with black?  Aside from that one douchebag tattoo artist that is.

Please, enlighten me on this.

I’m dying to know!

Hell I have tattoos that have no outline at all!

Then there’s the ‘certification certificates’ from the US.  OK nothing wrong with that, except that this is CANADA.  Way to go smarty pants, seems to me that someone is trying to give themselves far too much credibility here.  Those courses don’t mean shit to most people, because we all know that a sucker is born every minute and most people don’t have one iota of a clue what blood born pathogens are, let alone how to contend with them.  Furthermore, there’s all kinds of ‘courses’ now available on DVD!  Hey nothing like some DIY scarification/tattoo courses now is there!

Anyway the bottom line for me is this: I’m old school when it comes to tattoos.  I like my tiny hole in the wall shops, which some might consider ‘white trash’ because I refuse to go to a place that’s so ridiculously over the fucking top when it comes to making money, not to mention can’t cater to the simplest request.  Likely because they felt that that particular tattoo wasn’t worth their time.  I get that (small pieces are a bit of hassle), however my money is just as good as anyone else’s and that place makes my skin crawl.  I know there’s some good artists that work there, however in this case for me the whole outfit, not to mention Mr. Douchebag tattoo artist pretty much spoiled it for me.  Because YES one bad apple can spoil the whole bunch!  Don’t you know that mold spreads and pretty much contaminates everything in its immediate radius?

Defend them all you want until your blue in the face, I could care less.  I will however not give one red cent to any of their locations.  I’d rather chill with my boys in my undies where it’s comfortable and I feel like a member of the family, not a pay cheque thanks.  I personally like being treated like a person.

Because I am.


I love my job, LOVE it!  You know when you start working somewhere and it’s all pretty awesome from the start and then it slowly declines?  As you can plainly see from some of my previous blog posts, my career has had some serious WTF are you kidding me, someone please hand me a knife so I can stab myself in the eye moments!

Except life at the daycare, a place that I had never ever set foot in, let alone ventured in career wise until March of this year.  I got really, really lucky with this place for a number of reasons.  OK no I’m not rolling in the money and I am well aware that I could make plenty more somewhere else.  However getting up in the morning and not wanting to gouge your eye out with a plastic spoon is beyond priceless.

When I was younger I wanted children, then I got older and changed my mind.  It wasn’t so much that I despised the little’s per say, although some of them are so epically bratty that I wish I carried around duct tape with me so that I could just stick them a wall or a moving bus.  Best. Birth. Control. Ever.  I just found that I had no patience for them.  Even my niece and nephew whom I love more then life itself had on occasion tested my limits and killed all those baby wanting urges I had.  Those little’s are a lot of freaking work.  This became even more obvious to me when I started taking care of 80 of them.

Yes eighty.  80 little’s under the age of 5.

I love every single one of them!  I kind of feel like Michelle on 10, 15, what is she on 30 kids and counting now?  Mind you, I didn’t give birth to any single one of them.

Thank God…

Everyday I go into work I feel like a rock star.  I swear it’s because I feed them 3 times a day that I’m so popular.  That’s OK though because there’s nothing better then coming into work every single day and hearing 65 of them chanting your name (the littlest little’s in the nursery can’t fully talk yet) and getting tons and tons of sticky hugs and kisses, not to mention an insurmountable amount of love from each child that I encounter each and every single day.  Work lifts my spirits when i’m having a really shitty day.

Especially when I’m really missing him, like I am now.

There really is nothing better then getting a hug 600x’s a day from the one’s you just can’t help but love.  OK I’ll admit some I love more then others, like my little Elliot.  OMGWTFBBQ I am IN LOVE with this child!

This would be one of my many boyfriends!