And The Award Goes To........

This is for Kitty Kat because of this and this

Mr Pinchy, voted sexiest lobster alive.(pictured in center)

Blueberry Diarrhea

I found this little muffin story that I wrote from over a month ago......not sure why I didn't post it then. But here it is now, and that's what really matters.



Muffins are evil. I am not sure what compel's me to eat them. My husband after pleading with him NOT to buy them, does so anyways. Normally he gets them at the local coffee shop. They are cheap things that consist mostly of flour, oil, and sugar. They are not cakey or flavourfull. If you get chocolate chip they are only sprinkled on top. Same with bueberry and other such items used for flavour.


So why is it that I eat these things. And not just one, but 2 in a sitting or maybe 2 and a half. They lack unique personality of flavour and have crusty edges. I ate some muffins that had no filling in them at all. I could get a hint of flavour knowing I was eating blueberry flavour and I came across a blue stain in the dough. But not one fucking blueberry. I just don't understand why this is. It's like a blueberry came, took a shit and wiped it's blue ass on the muffin dough. I know there isn't a shortage of blueberries, and they aren't expensive. So what is the deal with this flavourless sugary dough, why do I eat this crap. When I do eat this oily sugary dough, I get a feeling of something equivalent to a cement bag sitting in my gut. It's unpleasant and I get cranky.



These coffee shops seem to inject some sort of cocaine in them, making you devour every morsel in the box. They taste like shit but you have to eat more, just like the Tomacco.
We, the people must make a stand against these blueberries, and evil corporations who allow these mis-doings to the pastry of muffins. We must end this madness. End the Blumacco insanity.

Stop eating the muffin.

Wipe My Bum

A kindergarten pupil told his teacher he'd found a cat, but it was dead.
"How do you know that the cat was dead?" she asked her pupil.
"Because I pissed in its ear and it didn't move," answered the child innocently.
You did WHAT ? ! ?" the teacher exclaimed in surprise.
"You know,"explained the boy, "I leaned over and went 'Pssst!' and it didn't move."

Yeah kids.........

my daughter is at the ripe age of asking very wierd questions. Or making statements that are viewed as wierd.

She is potty trained thank god...... but hasen't yet mastered the art of ass wiping. She has been explained how to do it, but when left with the task, let's just say it's a fucking mess hours after the ordeal.

This is a typical day:

Picture 3 yeard old running to bathroom.
*plop* *plop* *plop*
"Mommy wipe my bum"
"ok"
"Mommy wipe my bum"
"one second"
"Mommey wipe my BUM!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"I AM COMING ONE MINUTE!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Mommy I poohed...........WIPE MY BUM"
Since I am busy, my husband will go to investigate the smelly smeary problem.
"NO daddy..... MOMMY HAS TO WIPE MY BUM!!!!!!!"



Here is a conversation I had in the car last night.

"Mommy why do dolphins have a horn?"
"It's not a horn its a fin"
"A fin?"
"Yes, a fin"
"Mommy do dolphins poop on the beach?"
"No they poop in the water"
"And then they eat the water?"
"Ummmmm I believe there are bottom feeders that eat the poop to keep the water clean..."
"Bottom Feeders?"
"Yes bottom feeders."



After some silence I realized how wrong that might have sounded.....
You know Bottom = Bum

Right about now I am thinking my daughter is thinking that there is a fish that lodges to a dolphins ass and sucks out poop.

Funny Stuff

So I was watching this movie the other day called "Guess Who" the one with Ashton Kutcher and Bernie Mac. It was an okay movie but I thought I would point out a funny scene that made me giggle like a japanese school girl. You know the squinty eyes and the hand up to the mouth and you go teehehehehehe. It's a delicate little laugh that makes you want to dig out your eyes with a rusty spoon, without any novocaine.

Here is the rough outline of the scene, since my memory is no better than an 80 year old with alzheimer's

Hotel Clerk -- Hi there, how can I help you
Mr Jones -- I have reservations for Mr Jones
Hotel Clerk -- Jones with a j?
Mr Jones -- NO!!! Jones with a P
Hotel Clerk -- ????

That was some funny shit. I even repeated the whole scene out again to my husband, and he just rolled his eyes.


Speaking of funny stuff, Family Guy is a fantastic show and highly recommended.

Peter: Hey Mort, do these suppositories come in other flavors?
Mort: Peter, are you eating those?
Peter: No, I'm shoving 'em up my butt. Of course I'm eating 'em!




While we're at it let's include the new show American Dad

Wife -- oh honey your so upset do you want me to make you happy with my mouth?
Husband -- oh well, let's give it a try.
Wife proceeds to blow raspberries on his stomach.



And of course the classic, The Simpsons. This is my favourite scene of all time.

Backstory- Homer wrote a very angry letter to Mr. Burns and Bart mailed it. Now Homer tries to retrieve it at the Post Offiice.

Homer-- Hello, my name is Mr. Burns. I believe you have a letter for me.
Post Office -- Okay Mr. Burns, what is your first name?
Homer-- I don't know.

You can listen to the audio clip here

Boy or Girl??

What The..............

So I got this little gem in my email the other day. Not sure what it is. Not sure where it came from.

I think it's supposed to be a half human half dog freaky sex project that some furry dreamed up.

A furry is a new trend (I think) where people dress up as cuddly animals and do inhumane things to them. It was also explained on CSI: Miami. Just so I can further clarify the strange behaviour, here is a picture that was found on Google. Normally it is denied that such behaviour is for something sexual...... but I disagree.

Anywho....... this is a topic great for a blog entry but I am busy........ so let's make this a free for all, and comment to your hearts desire.

Rage Again: The Ninja Fax Lady

The Showdown: Friday august 19th
The Time: 4 pm
The Place: fax machine
Papers Left Until Completion: 5

That's right, for those sorry losers out there who think you never get a second chance at life.... I lived it. I lived it for me and my bredren. My fellow readers, I lived the second chance, and lived it gloriously. It was beautiful and magnificent, and my life is now complete. I am ready to die and enter the pearly gates, and speak to my maker and face my sins.

4 faxes to go.....

There I was at the fax machine doing my usual routine. I was minding my business, during a storm that threatened a tornado . Trees were blowing outside, my paper faxes were whirling around inside. I heard the noise. The “nothing noise” the noise that crept up on you while doing laundry in your basement at 1 am after watching a scary movie that made you shart yourself. I was in the eye of the storm.... I looked around and saw nothing. But I knew, I knew there was something out there, in the jungle. The Ninja Fax Lady that was spawned from a litter of phantoms, ninja’s, and cougars. The silent killer is not high blood pressure, it is Ninja Fax Lady!

I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I caught her, that sneaky little biatch. I caught her and her potato sack sweater that she wore. For everything that is holy I got her weakness and ate it up. (Never ever ever wear an over sized sweater, it will slow you down.) She stood there. Silent. Swaying from foot to foot. Almost impatient. I looked at her, not making eye contact, and smiled. You must never make eye contact with the Ninja Fax Lady. She will eat your faxes and wipe her face clean with your soul.

I only had 3 faxes to go……

For those who don't know me, I don't normally smile, so this was a stretch, and it hurt a bit. Some think I am a creepy bitch, others think I am just lonely heartbroken and shy with a child. I see myself as a vindictive, passive aggressive milf.

2 faxes to go....

We said nothing, more importantly I said nothing. I didn’t offer to let her "bud” in line. I wasn’t about to fold under the stress. I kept faxing without breaking stride. She hadn’t brought her evil red folder. She almost looked naked and fragile like a newbie covered in rookie blood. I could sense her eyes growing, the pupils doubling in size, tears welling up.... Chin shaking.....she looked like a Precious Moments figurine. She was a person with feelings.....
“damn you Gravity stay focused, this is the nature of the Ninja Fax Lady, this is how she gets to people.....stay focused don’t lose strength!!!!!”




1 fax to go..........

I punched in a wrong number..... dammit this is going to increase dialing time by another 4 seconds. Ninja Fax Lady was ready to break out some numb-chucks and whip me across the hands with them, I would be left rolling on the ground with bloody knuckles. My faxes would get ruined. My life would be a shameful exhibit for all co-workers to mock in the lunchroom. I would go to my car every night and cry until I gained control of myself and was able to drive home to my family. This can’t happen, no it can’t. I will not let it happen. I punched in 1 then the area code, and then the number. I was smooth and suave, I brushed some sweat from my brow, and then I executed the fax and pushed the "send” button.

I had done it!!!!!!! I had won this battle!!!!!! The battle of all battles. I had won the second coming, I didn't have a speech handy and I didn't have any dance moves that I choreographed. I just walked away, and let myself breathe again. The storm continued on outside but everything was calm again in the jungle.

Subliminal Messages

Subliminal Messages.

A conspiracy theorists wet dream. An excuse to look at foggy boobs in ice cubes. They are very scary, considering they can influence or "suggest" you into buying items you don't need or want. They have been shown not to work, but my concerning question is, why are they still here then?

Also, why are they usually sexual in nature? Why must a connection be made from food or alcohol, to sex?

I found a number of pictures that had some of these hidden messages. The one located to the left is definitely the most easiest one to spot, I don't think I have to go into details here. I am sure anyone's little imagination who frequents here, can fill in any of the blank spots.

Well, maybe I do.
The message here is, "drink cola and get head"






Here is one of a ham, It's innocent enough, but at the same time very vulgar. I just don't get it. Although, I don't think there is anything obvious like the Cola one above, but it's very disturbing, and I feel very dirty just looking at it. Might I also mention I don't eat ham, and if I ever did, this picture would certainly make me want to stop.

It's thought that these subliminal messages were first introduced into the movie theatre's to get customers to purchase food from the concession stands. "Eat More Popcorn" or "Drink More Coke" was the norm. I have read that subliminal messages must make their statements very simple as to not invoke thought from the conscious mind. They make you want those delectable munchies subconsciously. Because if you could think of it on a conscious level you would be able to "think" your way out of it. Since I am lazy and don't want to ramble on, ( I really just wanted to post a couple of cool pics) I found a very interesting video. Some of it's visual some of it requires audio.

Subliminal Messages

Story Time

Caves...... they are a large empty space. Normally dark and empty, full of rocks, sometimes wind or water. This pretty much describes a lot of people I know.

It is also an analogy for vagina's. Minus the rocks part, unless your girlfriend is a freak; but hey, whatever floats your boat I suppose.

Anyways I have supplied you with a good internet story that's been floating around for awhile. Give yourself a pat on the back if you read the whole thing. It took me 1 1/2 days to read it while at work. There will be a pop quiz on Monday. Actually no there won't, I am too lazy for that, plus I would have to read it again.

The Caver

If your too lazy to read a long story here is another story, not so long. but very disturbing. Sorry there are no pictures in this story just text, so use your imagination.

The Box

Rage Against The Fax Machine

So there I am. Like I always am at 4 pm everyday Monday to Friday. Sending my 50 gazillion faxes through the fax machine.
Every now and then I get someone coming up to me asking if they can sneak in and flip a fax through. Sure, no problem, it's only one fax, I don't mind, whatever.
Something strange happened a couple of days ago. I don't know if it was miscommunication, an internal battle of the infamous catfight with someone I barely know, or some kind of out of body experience with a snotty skippy school-girl who hasn't learned the ropes yet.

When I get an interruption it usually involves a question, "are you going to be long?" or "can I just send this one fax?" Fairly easy, quite simple, straight forward.

Picture it, Monday, I begin my routine, A thick pile of faxes, I am on a roll, making a great pace. I feel a presence. It stands behind me, then moves. I look around my shoulder, I see nothing, the presence had somehow disappeared in the jungle of desks, but I could feel the eyes. The eyes were burning into my head and into my brain, my ears were ringing from some sort of telekinesis. I continue my faxes. I hear a rustle of papers, but it wasn't me. It was next to me. I look again to see someone standing very closely to me. The presence had re-appeared from some sort of ninja move I had never grasped after 2 years of being here. Maybe she didn't leave at all, maybe she was standing there the whole time, in her bubble of silence, like some sort of black hole where sound could not escape it's grasp.

I flip another fax through, ignoring her. She still stands there, silent, shuffling papers that need to be noticed. By who? By me of course. She had a folder, a red folder, she quickly snapped it shut when I looked at her again. I zipped another fax through. I looked at the folder, so red, so menacing, so evil.

"FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK," I thought. She was watching me as my fingers danced across the fax machine dialing buttons so delicately. I realized she was waiting for the fax machine. She hadn't said a thing, she just stood there, like I was inconveniencing her. The folder was draped across her chest along with her arms.



"So........... Did you need to use the fax machine?"
"Yeah." she said cooley
"I am going to be here a while...... You got a lot?"
"No, not really." She said, and whipped out the evil red folder that came from the depths of hell, it was encased with graffiti. Some sort of writing I couldn't distinguish from gang writing or Aramaic.
"I am leaving at 4:30," she added.

"Well........," I wasn't sure at this point if I should let her use it, or make her wait. The devil and his secretary could wait another 3 minutes for his faxes, I was sure. Hmmmmm I wonder if faxing to hell was a long distance call??
"Shit stay focused Gravity, your leaving at 5 pm, let her send the faxes. If you don't she's gonna watch you, and make your nervous. Damn this jungle, and damn this ninja lady"
"Go ahead," I said
"Thanks."
I sat at my desk, and waited.
I waited some more.
I peeked over my computer screen. My two wide blue eyes peering at the ninja fax lady. I saw her in front of me.....Head bobbing, papers whisking around her, I saw a flash of the evil red folder, so red and pure and velvety like blood.
"Why is she taking longer than me??" I thought. "Did I just get taken advantage of?? Was I just lied to??"
I returned to my computer, and waited some more.

Ion's later, she walked up to my desk with the folder, The evil red folder that hides all work encased in it. Disguising everything enveloped in it as a fluffy bunny that is visually stream lined creating the illusion of "quick fax material"
"I am finished." she said
"Thank You," I answered.
I continued with my faxes, I only had 5 left, and took me less than 60 seconds to throw into the fax machine. This was a very strange 10 minutes of working life.

Play With Me

Play with the girl HERE


Please note it's disturbing and very bizarre.


If you sick buggers want more click here for the website

Take a Vacation?

So here we are again.......Monday.
Die Monday Die.
I wish I could seperate your letters one digit at a time and burn you and then bury you in every corner of the universe... just so we could skip this dreadful day all together.
I probably need a vacation. And I was silly enough to squander those 8 days on "long weekends" spread through out the year. Now all I have is 2 days and I don't know if I will get to use them as a day off or if I should save them for sick days (my sick days are unpaid here)

If I did have the day off what the hell would I do all day???????

Well since I am stuck here at work and on the brink of igniting myself with gasoline..... I might as well rant about it here so you guys can get some good shit's and giggle's in.

Well it's mostly so I can show you all the magical gif's I stole and now you guy's can use them too!!!!! what fun.

But seriously though, when you don't get any vacations you can get get sick more often. My healthy eating habits are now biting me in the ass because I am healthy as a horse and can't catch a cold if I wanted to. Lack of vacation days can also cause stress (no shit Sherlock) when you get stressed, you get sloppy. Mistakes can and will happen.

Lack of vacation days can also get you fired. Yes, that's right. Working more often can get you fired, let me explain.

You go into work on Tuesday, stressed from Monday. you have some sort of project due on Wednesday, but now your boss demands it Today (which is Tuesday) at 5 pm. Because your groggy head hasn't gotten out of the fog yet and the triple expresso with 4 sugars and 2 creams with a dash of crack hasn't kicked in, you flip your fucking lid and go ape shit on your boss.

The best days to call in sick other than the obvious - Friday or Monday (for the long weekend mentality) I would have to say Wednesday. Wednesday is better known as hump day. Because once you get over the hump of Wednesday it's all down hill with a one way ticket on the gravy train until friday comes along.

So at this point in time I suggest we all just take a "me day" or "fuck you" day and call in sick or plan a vacation day. Or if your just a slacker and have no choice but to come in (like me!) then just remember that us Canadians have a holiday on September 5th, I don't know who's death we are celebrating but it's a day off, and I can't hardly wait.

Ultragrain

Low in behold after writing my bread article there is new kid on the block. Sara Lee has introduced the white whole grain bread. That's right, it's white bread that is soft and squishy but is supposed to be healthier and fool the kids into thinking they are eating delicious plastic-clog-your-intestines-with-cement-pebbles-white-bread.
After reading an article in the paper yesterday this is what I learned. Sara Lee whole grain (miracle) white bread only has about 30% whole grain wheat in it. Didn't my previous article disscuss the factor of 60% whole wheat bread? 30% That's a fucking miracle folks. Lets market this plastic bread as the new beginning of bread that will change the America's lives in to a healthier living. it will eliminate the need for 100% Whole Wheat and 60% Wheat. It will make the lives of obese American's live 30% longer. 30% longer with diabetes and heart diesease but hell, as long as you can avoid meeting your maker 30% longer than let's all bow down to the white wheat bread makers of Sara Fucking Lee.

Here is quote which made me snicker and roll my eyes until I got a headache:

"The hardest thing is to get a kid to eat something that's brown or anything that looks like it has seeds in it." Tammy Yarmon, director of nutrition services for Omaha Public Schools

Case in point: Chocolate is brown. And I can't get my daughter to stop eating walnuts and cashews. 'nuff said. Actually this is over simplified but whatever.

Not only is this comment ignorant but shows you have no control over your child. If your child refuses to eat whole wheat whole grain brown bread......it's not the end of the world. There is a lot of other "healthier" carbs out there that you can shove down you child's throat. And if they refuse to eat it...... then let the little shit starve. The child will eventually eat. They will, trust me.

Besides, bread, potatoes, and rice are not an essential part of the diet. You have essential amino acids which come from protein. And you have essential fatty acids which come from well..... fat of course (omega 3 ring a bell?) As long as your child is eating enough of these two items they will live.

8 years and millions of dollars later they have created a false sense of pride into parents, and American's in general. Brown coloured bread normally doesn't come from the whole wheat particle but, from the mollasses and food colouring inserted in to the bread. So where was the purpose in this fucking scientific journey? Let me tell you. Ultragrain. That's it. Ultragrain is a "new" type of wheat that is lighter and sweeter in colour than the traditional red wheat used for most bread making/baking.

So long story short, if this ultragrain is lighter and sweeter in colour and taste then why did Sara Lee only inject 30% into their bread?

Rubber Johnny

This video is best when viewed at home. You need sound and about 8 minutes of your time.

The synopsis is this:

Johnny is a hyperactive, shape-shifting mutant child, kept locked away in a basement. With only his feverish imagination and his terrified dog for company, he finds ways to amuse himself in the dark.

Rubber Johnny

Auto Pilot and The Comfort Zone

If anyone believes in that horoscope jargon, I am supposed to like: excitement, travelling, and new things. Which of course is the total the opposite of me. I like routine, I like mundane, I like boring. Thanks for Martha Stewart making domestication a cool thing. I like flowers, arts & crafts and baking. If I didn't have such bad allergies and asthma I would be growing hens outta my backyard so I could harvest their eggs for eating and throwing at those annoying paper sales guys who knock on my door.



There is also work. I may complain, and get sick of the same old shit. But you know, I am in "The Comfort Zone"
You know what I am talking about. You pretty much know everything that your required to do to a point that your mind goes on auto-pilot for 8 hours. It's great, it's routine, it's mundane. It leaves extra time for a space in your brain to think about other things. Now those "other" things are up to the individual, food, kids, pooping, remembering to take the pill, that chick in accounting is hot and she would look great bent over her desk with her knickers around her ankles....You know basic "back-of-the-mind-bullshit"

Sometimes my weekends are more stressful than a work week. Weekends aren't planned and are up to the gods kinda thing. I do most of my cooking on Saturday, and Sundays all I wanna do is watch Animation Domination on Fox and eat my 3 chocolate bars. (BTW did anybody watch American Dad where the wife wanted to make the husband "happy with her mouth" then proceeds to blow raspberries on his stomach? That was funny shit) But then sometimes it's fun to actually get your brain back into gear and do something out of the "norm" This mood only happens to me occasionally.

I wear "The Comfort Zone" blanket like it's keeping the boogie man away. Maybe I am afraid of sticking my neck out and doing something different in the cold harsh world. Who the hell knows...Who cares. I am talking about the Auto Pilot syndrome; It's so much fun to go in to Auto Pilot and think about making snowflakes on that crappy website I saw.....Or maybe I should just go with those tab curtains in the breakfast room...... I also have no idea how that chick keeps her hair curly and so long without it going all frizzy...... Why the fuck does my boss have so many vacation days she must have been here for a bazillion years.... Same with my doctor I don't think I have seen her since I was pregnant 3 years ago, now she is always on vacation.... Maybe those paid vacations are from those pharmaceutical companies, so she will prescribe more Alleve for those 25 year olds who are sexually active club-hopping whores and drink more alcohol than a fish drinks water.... I wonder if they use a condom every time they have sex.... Man latex condoms are really irritating, don't those whores get yeast infections.. I wonder if they have an orgasm every time too...

Anyways I did hi-jack this idea from a daily email that's forwarded to me, but I didn't read it because it's philosophical and too intense for work. I just read the title of it and filled in the blanks with my own thoughts...Which are more exciting and interesting because I am so self-absorbed.... anywho, I think it was mostly about the comfort zone in relationships or invading a co-workers personal space bubble while they are surfing the internet for pictures to apply to their blog (what the fuck do you want now??!!!), Or allowing the customer to rape your soul while you still keep the "smile in your voice". Well, maybe I am talking about things that make you go "hmmmmmmm" but mine has more swear words, which makes it risque I suppose.

Case of the Mondays?

Please amuse yourself with a game until I can update my blog.

Big Boss

So I was just thinking. What is it like to be a boss? I was sitting at my desk doing nothing as normal and wondered what it would be like to have people below me. Do you walk into an office acting like this is your home, as if you own it, as sorts. It's strange I don't think anyone would take me seriously and would want to listen to me. I would be mocked and have rumours flying about me behind my back. (Gravity is such a bitch because her husband dumped her for another man who is younger and richer.) I assume this comes along with the territory. But how could I live my life knowing that my title as "boss" is automatically hated and feared. I have never really worked in a casual sort of environment, so I haven't had the glorious knowledge of being friends with a boss. (after work we will grab some drinks, then we can go shopping, go home watch a movie and we can have sex in front of the fire place while I stare into your eyes and talk about the John Doe account out in alaska that needs completion asap....oh and just place it on my bed side table at 7 am tomorrow)

I don't even think you can be friends with a boss. What happens if discipline is needed on the lower level pal? Is it taken seriously.......most likely not. It turns into a pissing match and becomes about the personal relationship. (Tom, remember that time back in 1985 when you fell off your bike and you got a booboo and I made it all better......well I am calling in a favour)




But then again...........while I was moving and my husband wasn't there to take charge I took over. I got my shit together and started organizing and telling people what to do. (hey stupid move the fucking couch over there or I will anally rape you with the chair leg) They followed my instructions and it was great. I felt like a had leadership skills and didn't care if I came across as a bitch.( I have a leather whip here with metal spikes on the end and I will give you 5 lashes for any slips ups) I am mostly mistaken as a bitch anyways so I might as well be a boss and serve a purpose. Now that I had a taste for boss-ism I have the hunger for more. But at my company, for me to climb this so-called corporate ladder I will have to have served this place for close to 25 years. (low turn-over rate in my department) That will make me 50. I don't wanna wait that long. So I just sit here and drone on about what's it like being a boss?

Moving Day

Well I did it.
I moved into my house over the long weekend. It was hard times one week prior to closing. Everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong. I will spare you details as it's lengthy and boring.

Before this house I lived with my mother in law for two years waiting for the construction of this box of bricks. Most of my living was confined to a 11 by 12 foot room. Me, my daughter, and husband. Now that I am in this new house I think I might be suffering from agoraphobia.

I would also like to point out the great accoustics with in this drum of a house. When my daughter had a tantrum the windows began cracking and the drywall flaked a bit. So yeah, I need some furniture, to absorb some of those deafning-blood curdling-wall peeling - make you wanna dig out your ear drums with a spoon- kinda screams.

So what sort of things do you need in order to remain sane whilst moving into a "new" home? Lot's of cleaning agents. Most think that everything is new and clean. But it isn't. Everything is covered in dust. Not dirty, skin flakes, bunny fluffs, and dust mites kind of dust. More like drywall, and spackle dust. If you have ceramic tiles they will be coated in a thin layer of grout that needs to be washed.

For some reason the water out of the tap is pure hot steam, it's not even water because it's so fucking hot. I should probably check the thermostat when I get home. Now I'm not sure who had the need to set the hot water to maximum because you could hard boil an egg in that hot bloody water. But who ever it was I sure hope that he isn't covered in second degree burns.

Cable and phones. You get the "rough-ins" but not the actual jacks. You have to pay for that crap. If you get a brand name guy (such as your local cable or phone company) to hook that shit up, it will be expensive. I recommend you get the phone book and call a contractor to do it. It's about 75% cheaper. Unless your lazy like us and get the "premium package" at your cable company and they hook all of the items up for you.

Hidden fees will surprise you, driveway paving, hydro hookup, tree planting. These items are charged to you when purchasing a new home. Resale homes don't have such items.

No gardening (landscaping) for over a year, or finishing the basement for 12-24 months, you must allow the house to settle and find it's little nook in the ground. You should be broke after closing anyways, so damn you to hell if you can do this kind of stuff.