I ate too many smoked mussels

I bought a plethora of them because they're high in iron and.... you've totally tuned out, haven't you. You care not about my run ins with ICBC, my ongoing quest to run the Boston Marathon, or about the freaks of nature that I occasionally share public transit with. Yep. At this point, no one is reading my blog. That's too bad.
The most interesting thing happened to me today! I was on the phone, screaming at some incompetent claims adjuster at ICBC when all of a sudden she said, "You know what? You're such a consummate arguer, and such a tremendous pain in my ass, so I'm going to give you $100,00 just to shut you the hell up". So I was like, sweet, I could buy so many Timbits with that! And then a lion came running into the office and it started attacking all the people that I can just marginally stand to come in contact with on a daily basis. When he was finished eating that particular person I was like, awww, you're just angry and need some attention. So I fed him the fish which is currently housed in a ridiculously small tank near reception (dude: being eaten by a lion in one fell swoop has GOT to be better than languishing in a tiny area... wait, what is the square footage on my condo again?).
Then, I took my $100,000 and bought a time machine (they were on sale for $79,999 at WalMart, but WalMart fucking sucks and I paid the extra 10k and bought it from my local hardware store) and I went back in time and made a couple of changes. I didn't take accounting at Kwantlen; I took creative writing at UBC, and now I'm a published author. I finely honed my "loser detector" and avoided having sex with the following men: MD, MS, D something or other, SB... eh, I'm sure there are more, but I can't be bothered to remember all the inadequate sex I've had over the past 13 years.
Hmmm... I guess I should do something important with my ability to time travel. Okay, I killed George Bush, Robert Pickton and Conrad Black. Yeah, maybe the Conrad Black thing is a bit extreme, but he's such a pompous asshole! Speaking of assholes, I was elected president of the Green Party and my advertising campaign was so successful (it involved a whiffle bat, some whipping cream and the phrase, "that was a wicked googly!") that I became Prime Minister of Canada and put an asshole tax on SUVs (to offset the high costs of hybrid cars), and found a way to harness the inordinate amount of time and attention paid to Paris Hilton into an alternate power source and now the GVRD has free public transit and post secondary education. Oh, I killed Tucker Carlson too (for the whole Canada being America's retarded little cousin comment), by twisting and twisting his ridiculous little bow tie until he expired. Then I married Dave Matthews, but was still a little unsatisfied due to his hectic touring schedule, so I had an affair with Michael on the side. I had dinner with J.D. Salinger and though I found him to be unbelievably brilliant, I was really turned off by the way he slurped his lobster bisque and ended up making out with the busboy in the coatroom (he told me he was into surrealism and existentialism but, intellectually, was incapable of any mental activity more trying than Tiddlywinks).
Because my time machine had a glitch in it, I realized I could only make another couple of stops, so I prevented the Holocaust, and then I invested heavily in Starbucks and Microsoft, sold at the high, and split the millions with my friends and family with the caveat that they must do good with their money!
Oh, and Larry David's ten year anniversary present? Me. 1,000 points to anyone that gets that reference.
Yeah. Rounding this mother out: didn't do bootcamp, but went to the gym instead. Chatted with Big D. Chatted with Michael and remembered way, way back in the day how we used to talk on the phone pretty much daily for like an hour. This was when he lived in Kerrisdale and I was in White Rock. Okay, so now? I live a ten minute walk away and if I don't see him on a particular day, we have a minimum 30 minute conversation. It's awesome. I don't mean to make you throw up in your mouth at all, but I think he's the bee's knees.
Oh. I also travelled back in time and ate less smoked mussels.