My Mama always told me to use protection…

I’m going to Florida! That’s right, to hot and sunny Florida! Don’t worry, this post isn’t to rub it in your pasty white faces! Oh, no! There is a much more serious matter that we must discuss: My safety.

I am a by-product of the 80s… which inadvertantly makes me a victim of Generation Jaws! And I suffer… I suffer something bad! I not only fear sharks in the ocean. I fear sharks everywhere… as in lakes, pools, bathtubs, under my bed! (Don’t laugh… I know someone who is afraid of straws!)

Don't try to tell me this picture has been Photoshopped! Please, I'm not THAT naive! I know real when I see it...

Don’t try to tell me this picture has been Photoshopped! Please, I’m not THAT naive! I know real when I see it…

I obsess over sharks. I believe Shark Week should be a national holiday… for the safety of the good citizens of our nation, of course. I research shark attacks when choosing a vacation destication. Hell, I even research shark attacks when we’re on “stay”cation… in Toronto! One can never be too careful!

I watch Jaws before every vacation to remind myself of the imminent danger I could be facing. I never let my guard down. I am protected at all times. You never know when he is lurking around the corner.

So, as I mentioned, I’m heading to Florida. Which is concerning for obvious reasons.

I have it on good authority that there have been several shark sightings in Florida this year. I have no evidence to back this up… In fact, I’m not entirely sure where I heard this… or IF I even heard this… or just MADE IT UP.  But still, I know it to be true!

So, like the good daughter I am, I’m taking my Mama’s advice! She always told me to use protection… (You were referring to sharks, right Mama?)

Here is how I plan on protecting myself and returning with all my limbs intact:

– I will avoid the ocean like the plague. That shark is waiting for me! Well maybe not exactly like the plague… I will go in up to my ankles… cause I’m crazy adventurous like that!

– My sister-in-law LGW told me that sharks prefer red heads. I am now a blonde…

– I have a snorkeling mask that has a rear-view mirror on the each side should I be approached from behind. One can never be too careful – even in pools!

– I will have a bear whistle around my neck at all times should I see a shadow lurking…

– I have increased my life insurance so my Little Orange Crush can live in the lap of luxury knowing it’s all because his mom died in the jaws of Jaws.

– They say to punch a shark directly in the nose should you come under attack. So I will wear stilettos in the pool and should I see anything come towards me, I’ll Single-White-Female that bastard in the eyes.

– I will wear a fat suit over my own built-in fat suit. Make him work for his lunch!

But my main source of protection is this: while my family stupidly frolics in the crystal clear, warm, beautiful Florida waters… I will be safely sitting at the bar drowning myself in pina coladas… I call it the Hammered Head Shark Defence!

Wish me luck!

baby shark

I’m thinking I need to get this outfit for my Little Orange Crush… Because what if a shark fornicates with a crocodile? We’d have a “sharkodile” on our hands who could snatch my little one right off the beach. No, I must lead them to believe he’s “one of them”… Safety first, people. SAFETY FIRST!!!

shark chair

And lastly, I NEED to get me one of these! As IF I’d EVER sit on it… But I could use it when doing my squats (let’s pretend I do squats, ok?)… and with each reps, I’ll say: “Kiss my ass Jaws!  Kiss my BIG GREAT WHITE ASS!!!”

Cheers, Red Whino

Will the real Louis Vuitton please stand up!

In honour of the… ummm…most unique dog ever, pour yourself a stiff one and enjoy! Cheers!


My Louis Vuitton might not come from Holtz or Saks… and happens to be in the shape of a dog… but he is just as genuine, and equally as expensive.

Yesterday we had to say goodbye to our dog, AKA Sir Louis Vuitton. It was a hard day. And today is harder yet. The house is quiet. We miss him.

We adopted Louis 3 years ago from the Humane Society. Louis had been handed a raw deal in life. He had a lot of medical issues. He required a lot of care. We knew all this when we got him. But Big J and I  felt he deserved a place to call home.  This was how Sir Louis Vuitton entered our lives… and let’s just say things have never been the same since!

We couldn’t fix the medical issues, but we were able to keep Louis comfortable. I don’t want to focus this blog post on his medical problems, as there was nothing funny about them. I’d prefer to keep it upbeat, in light of Louis’ spirit and personality.

I’m also not going to gush about what an awesome dog Louis was… To be honest, he was not awesome in the typical Caesar-Millan-Dog Whisperer-kinda-obediant kinda way. He was awesome alright… awesomely special… as in, he had a reserved front row seat on the “special” bus!  We’ve owned dogs before, but jeezuz shit f*ck did this dog ever top the charts.

Well-behaved is not how I would describe Louis.  Kinda like me in my teenage years, Louis was all about breaking the rules. Like Frank Sinatra, Louis did it his way!

Marly and Me have nothing on Louis Vuitton and Me. You see, Louis suffered from a severe case of Stupidity… for which there appeared to be no cure.

  • He was the dog who takes a dump in the front hall right after coming home from a 1-hour walk.
  • According to Louis, the Bible had only One Commandment: Thou shall NOT obey. EVER! (He was very orthodox in practice in this respect!)
  • He loved going for long drives. But he never understood that window glass serves as a barrier. If there was a dog in the car next to us, Louis would throw himself against the glass like a caged UFC fighter.
  • Louis was part garborator. He ate anything and everything….12 bars of soap (in one go!), entire rolls of tin foil, packs of Midol pills, full trays of brownies. Our house was like being in lock-down at Alcatraz, but Louis was like Houdini. If it meant chewing the door off its hinges, it was all in a days’ work.  What’s that? Crate him? Oh, we tried. He escaped everytime… either by chewing through the plastic crate or bending the metal part with his teeth.
  • He had a long-standing addiction to toilet paper. Not a day went by where our house didn’t look  like a coke-induced Zeus sneezed a big one.
  • And, finally, don’t ever, ever, ever leave dinner on the counter. Now you see it… now you don’t. Just like that. MAGIC!


By now you’re probably thinking “why the f*ck did they put up with this dog?”. It’s quite simple really… by this point, we had fallen for our special little friend.

What I have not mentioned is that regardless of all his shinanagans, Louis was a great soul. He was full of personality. He was loving. Not a day went by where Louis didn’t bring a smile to our face, laughter to our life.

Was he well behaved? Hell, no! He was not the “Sit BooBoo, sit. Good dog. Woof” dog from the 90’s (or was that the 80’s? I feel old).  Louis was not ‘vanilla’. He would not have made Oprah proud. But who cares. Have you met ME? Who am I to judge?  I don’t do ‘normal’. I wouldn’t even know what to do with ‘normal’. Life is too short for normal… But it’s well worth the ride, right Louis?

I truly will miss you, my furry friend. In the meantime, I am enjoying ample amounts of toilet paper still on the roll!

A toast to you, Sir Louis Vuitton! xoxo


Red Whino