The dreaded day approaches.

  The dreaded day approaches. Prisoners file in line waiting for the dreaded moment. The moment their freedom is taken away from them as the dictatorship rules their lives.
In related news, school is in a week. I guess the first day of school is exciting. Y'know spending a couple 300 bucks on school supplies to show them off for a day, then realize you only have a pencil left for the rest of the entire year? Awesome.
You know how the entire world is throwing cold water on themselves for charity? Well, I'll tell you what. Guess who called? Environmentalists. They want their water back. As soon as they finish throwing water on themselves. No, but really, donate money for ALS research, it's a good cause.
They're starting to bring out fall clothes. You know why they call it fall? Because we all want to fall asleep forever because winter is coming. (Well at least until winter's over, so for us in Canada, we want to be awake for maybe a week)

On the bright side for anybody who reads this, that means more stories of me almost dying on a skihill, so YAY FOR NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCES FOR THE BENEFIT OF OTHERS! WEE!

So expect more embarrassing stories in the coming months. Also, stay tuned for my great first day extravaganza next week on Monday.
Who knows what things I'll trip over or fall into.
Until then,  you will need to find amusement in this:




The amusement is it's nothing, so you'll need to figure out what the blank spot means.

Monique's Guide to being a weirdo in public

Everyone's always all about being polite in public. What's that? Just kidding, I can't even go up to someone and ask them for those little ketchup packets. I guess I shouldn't ask the person in the next stall of the bathroom for ketchup packets.

No but to be perfectly candid, I am shy and polite in person. That's why I decided to put together a list of things you should do in public for me! Pfft, I'm not ruining my reputation, go ruin yours for me!

Monique's Guide to being a weirdo in public

1. Walk around a mall or somewhere while muttering to yourself

"Darn, where did my pet snake go?"
2. In the bathroom, quietly slip a note to the person in the next stall that says:
Do you like me?
Yes or no?
3. In an elevator sing
"YOU'RE ABOUT TO ENTER THE TWILIGHT ZONE!"
4. Go to a maternity store and try some clothes on. When the store clerk comes over and asks you have everything is doing say:
Why do these clothes make me look pregnant?
5. Ask a random stranger for an autograph and then squeel like a teenager.
6. Go to a store and pick out a bunch of random items. Walk to the cashier. When they ask you if you're ready quietly whisper:
"You'll need these items in your future, use them wisely."
Slowly walk away.

Alright, see you guys.

Diary of a hormonal fourteen-year-old (Slash mutant fly thing human baby..) (thing)

Yeah, put this in the embarrassing teen diary entries, but you know it's true. People, you know it's true.
In advance, I'd like to apologize that I haven't written for, like, a month. I was busy doin' stuff. Y'know, the kind of stuff you dismiss as stuff because it isn't actually stuff it's just you doing nothing and probably fighting with a stranger on the internet over what fictional character is the best? No..you people don't do that? Well then I just made this very awkward between the two of us. I think we need to see other people.
Wow I just single-handedly confessed all my inner secrets and broke up with a blog reader in a paragraph. Good for me. I am getting better at this blogging jazz.
Right. Hormones. I'd like to explain the fact that I like reading. In case you didn't already get it after the countless blog entries about fictional characters, writing, and books. Pfft, clueless.  Am I damaging your self-esteem? I feel like I am damaging your self esteem.
Annnnywayys, it seems nowadays I have the attention span of a mutant-fly-thing.
Maybe I am growing younger, maybe I am an old person now, and I am just growing younger. Maybe I am a human baby! Y'know, that little exclamation mark after human baby just makes it sound more naive than I thought it would sound.

Hi, I'm back. Okay, I guess what this "Diary" is trying to prove is that I need therapy and I am now a mutant-fly-thing-human-baby

P.S I missed talking to you guys or this pixelated paper, whichever one of the two. If you stuck around this long, gold star for you!
P.P.S Everybody knows that everyone only reads the Ps parts of my blog because they are the only sane part of the entries. Or maybe because I give out stars. Wuttever..
See ya!

Nope. Nope, nope.

  Whenever I am in public with my brother, and my parents are doing productive things with their lives, people often mistake me as a teen mom. I remember it like it was just last summer. Because it was. We went to a football game, and my parents went off to buy us some junk food before the game. I guess the woman behind us was blind until my parents left, and she started talking to me:

Her: Aw, wow, he's so well behaved (She says talking about my brother)

Me: Hehe, yeah, I guess.

Her: How old is he?

Me: Oh he's eight years old.

Her: Wow, you must have had him really early. (If I had a kid who is eight, and I am fourteen, then I would have had him when I was six. MATH! MATH, PEOPLE! Not sure what's more surprising, the fact that I am preaching about Math or the fact that people think I would have a kid at six.

Me: (Suddenly confused) Um..

Her: Well y'know my daughter is a teen mom as well, and she just had her kid. (She turns and faces my brother) You have a really good mother!

Me: He he, um, well you see, he's actually not my son. He's my brother...

Her: (Realizes) Oh, right.

I always tell people this, but they just sort of give me this look like: Yeah, right. Your brother that you squished out of your uterus!

So, no, I did not have a kid at six just in case you were wondering. Also, lady behind me at football game can you get some new glasses? Yeah, because if I ever see you again I don't want you asking me if I am my grandmother's sister, or my brother's in-law or whatever else you have planned. (in case you were wondering, I'm neither).

Embarrassment is my weapon.

I find that I am the most awkward person to be around when you don't know me. These are my symptoms:
Voice-gets-incredibly-low-like-a-man
Muttering-that-makes-me-sound-like-Gollum
Very-Strange-Hybrid-Shuffling
And if I were to meet someone new, and I had all these conversation starters, it would probably go a little like this:
Stranger: Hi.
Me: I almost died on a ski hill once.
Stranger: What's your name?
Me: Mnike
Stranger: Sorry what?
Me: Mow-Nique?
Stranger: Sorry what? Meneque?
Me: Uh, Menek?
Stranger: Oh, Menek!
Me: (Already giving up) Yeah, sure.
Stranger: What's your last name?
Me: Vigneault
Stranger: Viñoo?
Me: Uh, yeah.
Stranger: Is it spelt V-I-N-I-O?
Me: *Throws dictionary at stranger*
In conclusion, I am probably some kind of an alien near strangers judging from the symptoms.

I'm an advocate for Ampersands.

Everyone knows that a Tick-Tac-Toe grid is a "Hashtag", because of social media, but you know who feels left out?

The Ampersand.

I'm not sure half the world knows what an Ampersand is anymore, so I will show you a picture.

This is an Ampersand.

Poor lonely, Ampersand.

#RememberingTheAmpersand

#TheIrony

Tourists and Whales with low self-esteem

 I was watching the news and one of the headlines read:

"Rare Albino Parades Off Coast"

And I'm thinking, wow these headlines make the animals sound really spontaneous. I mean, what's the next headline? "Seal sassy-ly waddles into water." Now, I'm no Whale expert, or Whale watcher, and I don't mean to rain on this Whale's "Parade", but it's only a parade if you have more than one Whale.

In other news, Monique knows nothing about Whales and is a Whale-bully.

Okay, this makes me really depressed. You see that wound right there? That's the wound I left in the lonely Whale's heart. I'm a terrible person.

Speaking of Whale Watchers, I wanted to talk about Tourists.

Tourists are like if an Oxymoron had a child. It's an Oxymoron's love child. Because, tourists always seem interested in everything they're doing, and they know stuff about the subject but at the same time know nothing. They also get excited over nothing. For example Whale Watchers like Watching Whales. (Thank you Captain Obvious.) And they have all these fancy cameras and there they are parading (Ironically) around with their bucket hats and fanny-packs, and once they snap a picture of let's say a tiny portion of a whale's tail, they get all excited like teenage girls at a Justin Bieber concert. Yeah, you have a picture of a Whale's tail. You could go on google images and find them there. I'm giving Whale's and Whale-watchers a hard time here. Okay if you're a whale or a whale watcher, I am so sorry. 

To put into perspective the way tourists act, let's make the setting a public bathroom. So there's tourists all around the bathroom and they're snapping pictures of everything.

"Oh honey you have to take a look at this guy's socks! They are just the best shade of petunia!"

Or the tour guide points out the soap in the soap dispenser:

"Here is the purple soap dispenser that caries the purple soap"

Then a very loud flamboyant woman will scream from the crowd of tourists:

"Hey! Why is the soap purple? That's so bizarre, OMG I have never experienced something so bizarre in the entirety of my whole existence!"

Yes, this is how tourists sound when they know nothing about the place they're visiting. It's like asking why people are pooping in a bathroom. So yeah, buy a tour book or somethin'. Or don't. I don't run your life.

(No Whales were harmed in the making of this post. Except maybe that Whale's self-esteem. Sorry!)