Taking it back (to the old school)....

Well, I'm taking it back today, to one of my original posts. About the language I speak. And one of the words I like to use.

The word of the day is "multicool".

It's all one word, it's derogatory, and it's useful.

The definition of multicool? Well, I guess that it's hard to define.

No. No it's not.

You know that guy who lives about a block away from you? The one with the black or red a) Civic b) Mazda 6 Series or c) any Acura? He always has the stereo jacked up to "shrieking"?

He's probably listening to a good song- but if you drive behind him for a while, you'll notice he's got it on 'repeat' (he's trying to teach himself all the words before he hits the bar tonight- just so the girls at the bar will think he has MAD RAP SKILLS). He wears a tee shirt, with his celtic arm band/ tribal/ barbed wire tat showing? And a puffed vest? Ripped knee jeans? Occasionally, you'll see him with a shell necklace- but that's not often. Only the older ones do it. Shades, a hat (or visor) and ALWAYS drives with one arm out the window. Him.

He's multicool.

 

He's so busy doing ALL the "cool" things from the latest fashion, that he is COMPLETELY the opposite of cool. I've also heard this called, "Douchebaggery". True enough.

There is another form of multicool though. This applies to the woman. You know her too. You see her at the gym- wearing LuluLemon yoga pants and makeup? Her 'normal' attire is a skirt, a shirt that's too tight, and five inch heels? She's got a tan that wouldn't look real if she was an oompaloompa.

Every single one of her profile pictures was taken by herself- with the camera above her at arms' length. And she's making "duckface" in at least 190 of the 200 profile pics she has. She's not 18. She's 30+. This doesn't automatically classifies her as a "cougar"- because she isn't looking for someone younger.

She's looking for someone older- and richer. She is also multicool.

That's the word of the day b's and g's. Use it well.

Don't ever try to camp with my parents.

Well, since this is my personal blog, I can write about anything I feel like. You can't stop me.
I promise to go back to the word definitions at some point in time. Today won't be it.

Today is the day I talk about camping with my middle aged parents. I love them. Don't get me wrong, they are wonderful people. But you put them in a stressful (read: anything outside the norm) situation, and both get progressively less sane. It's awesome to watch.

Started with just GETTING to the camp site. Grand Beach is an awesome beach, but the campground is situated slightly hidden. In fact, SO well hidden that my dad drove right past it. Almost twice. All I could do is follow along in my car, hoping they'd figure it out. It was getting late and they had my children with them, so I couldn't ditch them.

Then, getting set up. They don't remember very well what it was like to have a teenager around, and now they have 2 1/2 teens and a toddler. Somewhere along the lines, a mallet went missing, keys were lost, sunglasses were misplaced, and the littlest one started crying and whining. Awesome. This is why I don't usually go places with my parents. They lose EVERYTHING, and blame someone else.

(Oh, and my mom is obsessed with bears. To the point where every single thing we touch each day ends up packed back into the RV or car each night. That's not time consuming at all.)

Next, both of them started freakin' and peakin' over the amount of "stuff" each kid NEEDED to bring. Where could they possibly store all these things? Um? Tent perhaps. Let the boys deal with their own crap. The baby's stuff has to stay in the RV, but I only packed her a small bag, she can live out of that.

On, and on it went. Finally, they were set for the night and we all went to bed emotionally drained. Everyone was up bright eyed the next day, for a wonderful day at the beach. I stayed two more days, went through several mini crisis situations and tantrums- not the baby- my dad. This morning, I got into my car and just drove away. I'll go back later this week, but only for a day at a time. It's terrifying.

My favourite waste of time.

This right here is my favourite way to waste simply hours of my life (you know, all those extras hours I have that the kids aren't bugging me)....

www.antiduckface.com

A VERY close second is

www.damnyouautocorrect.com

Like I said, *when* I have extra time, this is how I spend it.