Friday, December 24, 2010


love: your messed up blogger, Mandy

Chapter 2- Grade 5

Ahh grade 5. The year my parents ruined my life. The year we moved. I didn't want to move. I was quite content with my small Sesame Street decorated bedroom. But no, this was the year I was forced into a different Jesus institute- I mean school. I didn't want to move. Kids at this new school were real assholes. Reeaaal pricks. I was made fun of for EVERYTHING. It wasn't my fault I was a quirky 10 year old with a snaggle tooth. I wasn't stupid enough to fit in with the 'special' kids and I wasn't smart enough to make friends with any of the nerds. I sure as hell wasn't pretty enough to even look at the popular crowd...they reminded me of that every day by barking at me. The greatest insult of the 90's. I was a loner, an easy target. Thanks to my oh so intelligent parents we ended up moving in the middle of the year. All of the lessons and assignments I had already completed at my old school (which was a huge accomplishment by the way) were just beginning to be taught at my new school by a very questionable student teacher. This meant I got to learn about ancient Egypt all over again! Luckiest. kid. ever. NOT. I was 10 years old when I first contemplated suicide. Ancient Egypt almost killed me. How many people can say that?

The end.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

'Going Deep' with your host Mandy....

I was 5 years old. Junior kindergarten. Surrounded by a herd of other ugly, not so bright children new to the catholic school system. The first week is the only week I can remember. Yes, it was that traumatizing. It was the third or fourth day in the Jesus institute when shit started to go down. I was sitting by myself. Minding my own business because at this age I was already well aware that I didn't want to be associated with these people. This blond hair blue eyed boy named Bobby (names have NOT been changed for privacy purposes) climbed up onto one of those miniature chairs. I always wondered why adults made us sit on mini plastic chairs. Did they think they were being clever? Anyway, after a few seconds a crowd gathered. I hurried over to see what the fuss was about. I thought maybe he had a new Cabbage Patch Kid or something. At this point my mind was still pure and my intentions were good. The incident that occurred in the next 2.5 seconds will forever be burned into my brain. Bobby whipped out his penis. His twig and berries. His junk. It was just chilling there. Mine didn't look like that. My little 5 year old mind was horrified yet confused. I prayed to Jesus who I assumed was the one in charge, the principal. "Pleeeeaaaase don't let mine grow to be like that!" I was disgusted. Both with Bobby and Jesus.

A few days later, my "teacher" decided it would be a nice treat to let the 22 rugrats in her care go outside for an early recess. I think this is where the buddy system came into play years later. She lined up all the kids, single file of course and led them out the door.... or at least that's what I imagine she did. I wouldn't know because there were only 21 kids in that line. Did my "teacher" check the washroom before turning off all the lights and locking the door? NOPE. That's right. Crazy bitch locked me in there. In the dark. Bobby should have been in my shoes. He was the one waving his magic stick around, not me. After what felt like an eternity of screaming, I met the real principal. She was a woman and she wasn't Jesus. She heard me crying from the hallway and came to my rescue.

Now we all know why my greatest fears involve penises and being left alone. Thank you, blog thingy for this therapy session.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

don't got nobody else to blame but ourselves

Dear blog-thingy,

I'm not dead. I've been neglecting you. Sometimes life gets a wee bit crazy. You lose yourself in the madness and finally one day you realize it's time to find the old you. The fun you. The writer, the lover, the comedian. And I know she's not dead either. She's in there somewhere.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Amanda Can't Sleep

I hate nights like this
nights where I question human kind
the earths gravitational pull, love, how many stars are in the sky
and my very own sanity

I get myself into these phases and find myself stuck for weeks at a time

Something will come along and snap me out of it
Something always does

In the meantime I will just let my brain wander, after all some of my best ideas come out at times like this

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Life Lesson #29

While doing something completely psychotic in the workplace AND being observed by a fellow co-worker do not yell "I SWEAR I'M NOT CRAZY." You will unknowingly make the situation worse and make said co-worker consider calling the nice men in the white jackets to have you removed.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010


Things That Make Me Uncomfortable
By: Mandy Crane

Sexually suggestive country songs
Old women in sexy thongs
groovy glass bongs

Bitches who think they are fine
Working till nine
Waiting in line

Awkward telephone calls
Over crowded malls
Drunken falls

Co-workers who have gone mad
Milk that has gone bad
The word "lad"

Things that go bump in the night
People who aren't very bright
A stupid fight

People who think they can sing
Rappers and their bling
"The Ring"

Children who won't share
When life isn't fair
Body hair

Money that I spent
Paying rent

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Life Lesson #178

Always remove retainer at the first sign of nausea.


Saturday, June 12, 2010

Another day, another dollar

DumbDumb : "Excuse me sir, how much are your watermelons?"
Mandy : *Looks over shoulder*
DumbDumb : "How much are your watermelons, sir?"
Mandy : "Oh hell no."
DumbDumb : "The watermelons?"
Mandy : *blank stare* "$5.99"

This is a common occurance for me. I come home, sit in front of my computer, eat food that is no where near as delicious as anticipated and try to pin point the most fucked up conversation I've had that day. Today, this one wins.
And I must thank you, Mr. DumbDumb. Thank you for confirming my tiny titty theory.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

10 ways to get back at an ex

1.) you know his best friend...the guy he can't live without? show up at his apartment wearing only a trench coat.

2.) hack into his facebook profile and change his interests to freeganism, Paul Reiser and face tattoos.

3.) decorate his car with a bumper sticker that declares "small penis on board."

4.) wait until hes dining with a new date, then call the restaurant and ask them to tell him that "his kids are on the phone and they're wondering how long they'll have to wait out in the cold."

5.) become really, really, really hot.

6.) when u go over to his place to claim your belongings, stealthily swipe all of his remotes.

7.) gain notoriety for your blog "hilarious things I found in my ex's trash."

8.) casually mention to him that you finally got around to all those kinky sexual fantasies that he was dying to try with you and, well, they're fantastic.

9.) pay your pregnant friend to pee on a stick that you leave for him with a thanks for nothing note attached.

10.) write your names inside a big heart on his lawn... with gasoline. have a match ready for when he arrives.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

I've Never...

:been on a picnic
::had sushi
:::rode a roller coaster
::::been on a train
:::::been on a ferris wheel
::::::gotten paid for doing something I love
:::::::been in two places at once
::::::::had a tattoo
:::::::::cheated on someone
::::::::::hated someone
:::::::::::been on a motorcycle
::::::::::::went a full day without swearing
:::::::::::::had dinner at candle light
::::::::::::::missed an episode of survivor
What's something you have never done? :P

Saturday, February 27, 2010

You're So Vain, You Probly Think This Song Is About You.


An outcome of events contrary to what was, or might have been, expected.

That is all.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

you build me up... you break me down

My inspiration department has been lacking lately. My head feels empty... but I felt obligated to post something. My poor blog thingy is so lonely.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

P.S I love you

I finally got around to watching this movie. I figured after watching "My Sisters Keeper" and crying my guts out, I wouldn't have anymore tears left. Wrong. This movie is depressing as fuck. Not because Jerry dies of a brain tumor, But because this fucker is DEAD and still manages to be more sweet than my boyfriend... who is very much alive by the way. This tear jerker gave women all over the world crazy unrealistic standards that will never be met. Men cannot be capable of being so loving, respectful and fun as this Jerry bastard. So up yours "P.S I love you". You made me hate my life for about 90 minutes.