Today In Not Freaking Happening: Bring The Phone To Bed With You For Customized Sexy Time Music

I’ve been off the sex market for a very long time. But let me assure you that if I weren’t and if one day I happened to find myself with someone and the conversation went something like “Ok, before we do this I’m just going to set the phone on the bed,” that person is outa here. Yes, even if we’re in her house.

Dude. Seriously. No phones on the bed, even if the reason is kind of creative. It’s creepy.

Besides, if this thing doesn’t have Short Music for Short People, it’s not doing me a whole lot of good anyway.

BEDBEATS
A musically responsive app that syncs with your sexual rhythm …
YOU’RE WELCOME!!!

AWESOME FEATURES
It’s simple, download the app, adjust for mattress firmness, select one of the music categories—dance, trance, funk, chill, roots or smooth jazz —choose your song, then place the phone somewhere on your mattress.
MUSIC UPDATES
Regular New Music releases, designed just how you like it!
BLUETOOTH CONNECTIVITY
Connect it to external bluetooth speakers for great sound!

RESPONSIVE
The music moves with you as you move with your partner
ADJUSTABLE SENSITIVITY
From soft to hard beds we have you covered!
SIMPLY AMAZING
BEDBEATS is the world’s most advanced bedroom music app, using the incredible new capabilities in phones to maximize your together time.

BEST APP, EVER
We don’t claim ‘world’s most advanced bedroom music app’ for nothing. BEDBEATS is stocked full of high-quality custom music that ebbs and flows as you move. Finally, a DJ for between the sheets.

Huh. People Like To Drink Beer and sing. Who Knew?

I call it most of the good parties I’ve gone to, but nowadays they call it Beer Choir, apparently. Looks fun, whatever name you want to give it. And what a fantastic theme song.

One group of Edmontonians has come to realize that songs and craft beer can make a perfect pairing.
A new musical movement called Beer Choir is coming to the capital region, and it’s exactly what it sounds like — the new community choral group will sing together while sampling beer at breweries, pubs and bars across the city.
In the words of the official theme song: “The Beer Choir is the choir that sings while drinking beer.”
“It really is that simple,” said Sara Brooks, the founder of the local Edmonton chapter, in a recent interview with CBC Edmonton’s Radio Active. “It combines two rather fabulous things — community singing and craft beer.”

Help Our Friend Barb Win This Year’s Holman Prize

Our friend Barb MacDougall is a very talented musician, and she wants to share her love of music and the benefits of it with as many people as she can. So to help herself reach that goal, she has submitted an application for this year’s Holman Prize.

What is that? It’s this.

In 2017, LightHouse for the Blind and Visually Impaired in San Francisco launched the Holman Prize to support the emerging adventurousness and can-do spirit of blind and low vision people worldwide. This endeavor celebrates people who want to shape their own future instead of having it laid out for them.
Created specifically for legally blind individuals with a penchant for exploration of all types, the Prize provides financial backing – up to $25,000 – for three individuals to explore the world and push their limits.
The ideal candidate is someone who is willing to probe their environment and eager to savor the richness of a world that is so often thought of as inaccessible to the blind. This exploration may involve travel, community organizing, athletics, creating art and more.
The Prize begins with a challenge: blind applicants must submit a first-round pitch, in the form of a 90-second YouTube video. Later, a select group of semifinalists will submit in-depth written proposals, and an even smaller group of finalists will be interviewed by LightHouse staff.

This is Barb’s first-round pitch.

Give it a watch and share it with anyone who might be interested.

We’re totally pulling for you, Barb!

Listen To This Or Don’t. I Don’t Give A Fuck

Not a song about snow days per se, but it seems appropriate.

I’ve tried, tried, tried
And I’ve tried even more
I’ve Cried, Cried, Cried
And I can’t recall what for
I’ve pressed, I’ve pushed, I’ve yelled, I’ve begged
In hope of some success

But the inevitable fact is that
It never will impress

I’ve no more fucks to give,
My fucks have runneth dry,
I’ve tried to go fuck shopping
But there’s no fucks left to buy

I’ve no more fucks to give,
Though more fucks I’ve tried to get,
I’m over my fuck budget and
I’m now in fucking debt

I strive, strive, strive
To get everything done
I’ve played by all the rules
But I’ve very rarely won,
I’ve smiled, I’ve charmed, I’ve wooed
I’ve laughed,
Alas to no avail
I’ve run round like a moron,
To unequivocally fail!

I’ve no more fucks to give,
My fuck fuse has just blown,
I’ve been hunting for my fucks all day,
But they’ve upped and fucked off home,
I’ve no more fucks to give,
My fuck rations are depleted,
I’ve rallied my fuck army but
It’s been fucking defeated!

The effort has just not been worth
The time or the expense
I’ve exhausted all my energy
For minimal recompense
The complete lack of acknowledgement
Has now begun to gall
And I’ve come to realise that I
Don’t give a fuck at all!

I’ve no more fucks to give,
My fucks have flown away,
My fucks are now so fucked off
They’ve refused to fucking stay!
I’ve no more fucks to give,
My fucks have gone insane
They’ve come back round and passed me
While they’re fucking off again!

I’ve no more fucks to give,
My fucks have all dissolved,
I’ve planned many projects
But my fucks won’t be involved!
I’ve no more fucks to give,
My fucks have all been spent,
They’ve fucked off from the building
And I don’t know where they went!

I’ve no more fucks to give,
I’ve no more fucks to give,
I’ve no more fucks,
I’ve no more fucks,
I’ve no more fucks to give!

Rassie In The Buppy In The Disappointing Logic

I’m a little bummed because I loved the randomness of it, but the mystery of how Someone’s In the Kitchen With Dinah became Rassie In the Buppy In the Kitchen appears to have been solved.

My sister happened to notice the words to one of the songs playing in the background yesterday and heard the line “Breakfast is a-cooking in the kitchen”. And a further look at the lyrics also explains the part about “Cookin’ on the skove!”, which I forgot to mention the first time.

But even armed with this new information, I’m still ready to fight anyone trying to argue that Rassie In the Buppy In the Kitchen isn’t song of the year.

Everybody wake up in the morning
Everybody’s hungry I know
Everybody wake up in the morning
It’s breakfast time, let’s go!

Breakfast is a-cooking in the kitchen
Something yummy I know
Breakfast is a-cooking in the kitchen
Cooking on the stove!

Pancakes, bacon and ham
Buttered toast and berry jam
Pancakes, bacon and ham
Buttered toast, berry jam

Eggs fried sunny-side up
Hard-boiled in a little tea cup!
Eggs fried sunny-side up
Hard-boiled in a cup.

Waffles baked with buttermilk
Yogurt soft and smooth as silk!
Waffles baked with buttermilk
Yogurt smooth as silk!

Sausage patties, muffins baked
Yummy fruit salad, coffee cake
Sausage patties, muffins baked
Yummy fruit, coffee cake!

Dear People Who Put Newscasts Together:

Can you do us a favour and not play audio related to somebody famous before telling us why? I can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but that’s kind of become the signal that the person has died. CBC World Report started playing Never Surrender this morning and for a good five seconds I was certain something bad had happened to Corey Hart. Fortunately nothing has unless going into the Juno Hall of Fame is somehow not good, but we really didn’t need the scare especially given how absolutely shitty the last few years have been on the celebrity death front.

Congratulations, Corey! Good to hear you’re alive and well.

Let’s Talk Dirty In…Finland?

I don’t remember exactly how the conversation came around to it, but at dinner last night Carin mentioned Ukko-Pekka Luukkonen’s fantastic name.

“Whenever I hear it,” she said, “all I can think of is Lets Talk Dirty In Hawaiian.”

This made me very angry, because she’s totally right and how did I not think of it first?

So yeah, there’s either hockey or John Prine ruined for all of us forever. Just try not thinking of one when you hear the other from now on. I dare you.