Monday, October 25, 2010

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Halloween Is Coming!

                                                And our feet are all ready for it.

Taken By The Trees..

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Relationship Fail

 Apparently at exactly four days before the eight month mark of both of my serious relationships my boyfriends ran out of tolerance. I guess that is the point at which my awkwarndness becomes too much and they just can't take it any more?
Both times, four days before the eight month anniversary, they dumped me.
Not only that, but they both had me bus all the way out to their houses in order to break my heart.

The first time, I'll be honest, I saw it coming. The relationship had pretty much fallen apart four months in but we were too naive to let it go. Well, I was. He tried to break up with me once before by saying we should "take a break"  but I successfully guilted him into coming back.

Anyway, one faithful night I bussed all the way across the city to watch a softball game like a good girlfriend should, then like the pile of awkward fail that I am I got on the wrong bus and became lost and confused which was traumatic enough and completely unnecessary.
So after a nearly two hour expedition I got off the bus (kind of expecting a hug because bussing is stressful  but bussing badly is emotionally damaging) wearing what I thought was a pretty charming adorable outfit (but what my mother refers to as my 'Clockwork Orange Look' ).
Boyfriend # 1 looked all sad and uncomfortable which I assumed was because I was late.
I asked him what was wrong.
He just stood there, holding the tupperware that had held the vegan brownies I had baked for him, and then he said:
"Zoe, I want to break up."
And I said:
".................."

Then I stomped my foot (because I am a success at maturity!) and started to cry.
There was a little bit of me screaming and being unreasonable and then a lot of him just walking away to play softball and leaving me at a bus stop far away from home.

I really didn't want to stay out there at the stop, but the only other place to go would be Boyfriend # 1's parents house and that would just lead to badness.

I called my mom.

I guess I should be sad that as soon as she answered the phone she knew, but I think moms can just tell.
So I sat on the curb and waited for her to come pick me up.
I think I really weirded out the poor girl who came to actually wait for the bus because I just sat there clutching my tupperware and sobbing.

That was the first time.

The second time was not expected.
The second time was much worse because Boyfriend # 2 called me the night before asking for a hug.
Who does that?
I love you! Oh just kidding get out of my life I actually hate you.

Our relationship prior to it's untimely end was Practically Perfect in Every Way, so when he called that night sounding distraught about his workload and exams my instinct was to comfort.
I told my friend who was staying with me that I had to do the Good Girlfriend thing and go see him early the next morning and she agreed that I am clearly a very kind and loving person.
So the next morning I get up at six.
Yeah, six in the morning.
I even put on the underthings he liked the best, because I'm nice and thoughtful like that.


As I was leaving I saw my mom, which I think alarmed her because I was up before noon.
She asked me where I was going and why I was leaving Colby (visiting friend), and when I explained that Boyfriend 2 needed me because his life was very hard and I am very good at hugs she was impressed by my niceness.
I got on the express bus and alerted him that I was on my way, he texted me back saying he'd meet me at the bus stop because it was such a nice day.
It was overcast.
I should have known then that there was trouble afoot.
Luckily (not really) I was going to walk from a further away stop rather than wait for the second bus.
It would be faster, and my man needed me!
He offered to meet me halfway, and since I was apparently determined to ignore any warning signs, I thought "he probably just wants to get some air, poor thing".
Clearly, I am an idiot.

So I'm walking along, feeling chipper and delightful because, even though I felt guilty about ditching my friend I had really missed my boyfriend!
I saw him across the street and my heart was pounding because I'm lame.
And a girl.
He kissed me, he held my hand, we laughed and talked all the way back to his house.
I had even shaved my legs.

We arrived at his house and I put my bag in its usual spot next to my slippers and watched him crawl into bed.
I climbed in a nestled into his side, he put his arm around me.
I said:
"Tell me all your troubles."
And he started to sniffle and I felt terrible so I hugged him tighter.
He said:
"Zoe, I want to break up."

After a lot of crying, stomping and photograph-ripping  I ended up on a curb again.
This time, instead of tupperware, I was clinging to moccasins and a teddy bear.
I didn't even have to call my mom and she knew.
Turns out he didn't have enough time for me in his life.
It's nice to hear that at nine A.M.
I guess thats why he couldn't come to me to do it and give my stuff back, he has a busy schedual.

 Four days to eight months.
 Maybe it's an expirey date printed on me?
Not only that, but I'm pretty sure that Boyfriend # 1 has my copy of Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close and Boyfriend # 2 has Everything Is Illuminated ... So possibly where ever it says "Do Not Date After Eight Months" it also says "Should Not Own Any Jonathan Sarfan Foer Books"?

I think that's worse actually, I really liked those books...

Friday, May 14, 2010

The Disaster of Wellington

Last summer the Lame Owls were reunited which obviously means that awkwardness was about to begin.
That was also the summer of a really cool play festival that had $ 2.00 tickets for students, naturally we decided to attend.
We wore our most artsy, I-like-the-theatre, clothing (scarves and hats and leather boots and things) and made our way down to the Arts Center.

Dilemma #1:

                 We couldn't find the damn entrance. First we walked around the building in our usual manner (half in a daze) and giggled at the awkward Prom kids that were looming around. Prom is basically the most uncomfortable event ever to begin with, but it's even more uncomfortable when it isn't actually your own prom and you just happen to have accidentally invaded it. So we kept wandering along the outside of the arts center hoping to find some kind of entrance, no luck. So now we were getting a bit panicky, which is never good because then we start getting irrational and wondering of maybe the building doesn't have a door because it's not even a real building or maybe this is the wrong place and we took the bus to an alternate universe, or perhaps this is all just a shared dream? Anyway, it gets bad.
TOTAL LUCK OUT!
We spotted some parent-friends who were also going to the play and creepily tried to follow them in with out being noticed and thus seeming incompetent. That plan was crushed like a ripe and juicy grape when they turned around to see us giggling at our cleverness.
Not only did we look incompetent but we also looked a tad insane.

Dilemma #2

       Now that the parent-friends had seen us we had to face the awkward seating issue. The problem was that, at 18 years old we should have been mature enough to sit with them and make polite conversation during intermission etc. Except obviously that isn't true. Another issue was that Zoe forgot that she is practically blind without her glasses and neglected to bring them, so we pretty much had to sit in the front row (plus if you sit there and make eye contact with and actor then you can guarantee that both you and the actor will feel really, really uncomfortable).

Dilemma #3
 
                Containment and restraint have never been strong points for either of us, unfortunately wild and inappropriate laughter is. This can make being in public somewhat... hazardous.
Lets just say that the play was funny, okay?

Dilemma #4

                  At $ 2.00  a pop, it seems almost necessary to see as many plays as possible, so we asked an usher where and when the next one was. This is where things get really tricky- the guy gave us a map and told us where the next venue was located, this is EXACTLY what he said "Just follow Wellington Street, it's really close." and we said "Is it walking distance from here?" and he said, I swear to God he said "yes."

We had a few hours to kill before we had to get to the next place so we decided to get some dinner and then run around downtown taking weird pictures of ourselves. You know, the usual.
Eventually the time came for us to start heading down to the theater, so we found Wellington (easy) and began our journey. The first twenty minutes were easy going and fun, we were so young and naive then. After about forty minutes of walking (and skipping and dancing and singing) we started to get a little anxious, we weren't any where near where we should have been according to the ushers map...
We found this guy with and iPhone and begged him to google map the address for us, he did and gave us very sombre news. Our destination was still 8 miles away.
What?!
I guess the really ridiculous part is that at that point we still thought we could do it.
We couldn't.

Dilemma #5

         The real reason we had to stop? We found a Field. Yep, one look at all that luscious grass and moss and we were done for, we had to test it out. It needed to be laid in! Plus we'd been walking for approximately ten thousand years anyway, we deserved it.
The problem with that is that once you lie down in a field, it is actually physically impossible to remove yourself from it for at least an hour.

Needless to say, we never did get to see The Erotic Adventures Of Don Juan as preformed by marionettes. Which is a shame, really, when you think about it.
It was probably very inspired.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Farmville

So,
We have not yet encountered it, only heard rumours, but apparently there is a turkey wandering around the gated apartment complex where we sometimes live .
(I say sometimes because the Lame Owls have very unusual living arrangements)
Anyway, we're going to try and hunt him down.

Just so you know...

Sunday, May 9, 2010

I know I Am, Thank You.

We have a blushing problem.
There should be Blushers anonymous except that everyone who should attend meetings would be to shy to actually ever go and if they did then they'd just sit there being as red as two red things anyway.
So I guess that's actually a pretty bad plan.

Anyway we blush A LOT.
It mostly  happens during uncomfortable solo situations, like in dance or giving a presentation. Sometimes though it just happens for no good reason which is really just unfair and stupid.
The reason that this is a problem and not just a nuisance because people have this really annoying tendency to point out that we're blushing. What is the point of that?! Obviously I know that I am blushing because my face has the fire of a thousand microwaves pouring out of it and I am tearing up with embarrassment now that you've called everyone's attention to it.
Thanks Jerk.

This is how the situation usually pans out:

Lame Owl is forced to do something horrible and humiliating like a dance solo in front of a million (actually just ten) people. Obviously discomfort levels are rising steadily. Blushing begins. 

Person: Aw, you're blushing!

Lame Owl: Blushes harder but tries to appear normal. Possibly laughs awkwardly.

Person: Oh man, you are SO red right now!!

Lame Owl: Continues blushing. Forgets how to speak. Eyes begin to water.

Person: Oh my god! Are you crying?! Aw! Don't cry! Guys she's crying!

Lame Owl: Gnarf.

Then everyone always makes a big deal about it and it all could have been avoided if that one jerk hadn't pointed out the blush.
Actually.. It could have been ENTIRELY avoided, blush included, if the Lame Owls hadn't been forced to do a dance solo or anything.

The point is, why do people have to inform us that we're blushing?
How would some one NOT KNOW that they were blushing? And pointing it out is guaranteed to make them blush harder and only some kind of.. sadist would want that.
Right?

Friday, May 7, 2010

Got My Shade On

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Lemonade And Fields

There are some things that Lame Owls need for life exsitance. The warm weather that is finally, finally, beginning is wonderful... For the most part. The downside is that once the tempuratures start rising, something happens within the body of a Lame Owl, something terrible.

It starts with a desperate craving for Green Tea Lemonade. It's kind of like heroin but way tastier and with more ice. We crave for it as if we were gut and blood ridden zombies in need of their fix.



The thing about GTL is that it has no substitute... none. You can't just simply have a glass of normal lemonade and feel satisfied, no no,  it needs to be from Starbucks and it needs to be of the green tea variety. We tried to make it on our own once and failed. Drinking it from a straw is also a very important part, and you have to ask for limited ice otherwise you'll just end up with lemon-flavoured ice. Which would be sad.
We take this drink very seriously.
One time we decieded to 'be brave' and try Passion Tea Lemonade, lets just say it didn't turn out to well.


























It was pretty much a scene out of the Hulk. We became extremely angered, grew some muscles and ripped our clothes right off. It was weird... and intense.
...And a little bit arousing.

Once we have the GTL though, that doesn't mean that suddenly everything is okay. You see, the warm weather in combination with the GTL causes our brain to basically shut down, which means we need an appropriate place to pass out for a good 10 hours. If there isn't a field or meadow proximal to us the panic starts to set in. WE HAVE TO FIND A GODDAMN FIELD OR SOMETHING BAD IS GOING TO HAPPEN!



If we do find one though, it's okay.
Then we can sleep peacefully and enjoy the GTL.

Except sometimes the peacefulness doesn't actually happen.
Sometimes it is disrupted by extreme awkwardness.
Do you want to know what kind of awkwardness we've encountered in feilds? Do you? DO YOU?
If you do, please let us know because there has been an obscene amount of discomfort involing meadows and we'd love to share!

Monday, May 3, 2010

I Am Shit.

Do you ever have one of those days where you get up feelin' good, so you put on a new and daring outfit, style your hair and get creative with your make up?
Your confidence is at an all time high and maybe you're even a little cocky.
It's easy to look around and feel assured that you are definitely the sexiest person in the immediate vicinity,.
Basically, you are the shit.

Everything is going positively swimmingly until suddenly you catch sight of yourself in a window.
That's when you realize that maybe puce really isn't your colour, especially in spandex, and your beehive had deflated.
It occurs to you that you probably look better when you aren't wearing blue eye shadow, because now you're starting to feel a little drag queen-y.
You suddenly notice the panty lines and the really classy lipstick stains on your teeth.
You are not the shit.
You are just shit.




























shit...

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Big Fucking Nose

We have noses with attitude.
That's basically the best way to describe it, other words that could be used include (but are not limited to) Big, Obtuse, Alarming and Grapefruit.
Wait... I think one of those may actually be wrong.
Anyway it's a really big fucking nose and for some reason we both ended up with it.
The thing about the nose its that it's really badass and we generally feel that it is responsible for all of our bad behaviour.




What I'm getting at is that the nose has personality.
You know that feeling you get from wearing lingerie, or a leather bomber jacket?
Well the nose makes you feel like that all the time. 
 This is starting to sound like a euphemism for snorting coke.
THIS POST IS NOT ABOUT SNORTING COKE.
I hope that clears up any confusion.

Jennifer Grey had the nose but she got it 'fixed' and look what happened to her.
You're wondering what ever happened to Jennifer Grey now aren't you?
Exactly.

It's a big fucking nose, don't mess with it. 

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

I Got Some Toast, Yo.

We are really good singer/ songwriters. It's kind of unbelievable actually, the vast amount of talent we possess.It would be coy to downplay our musical genius. The sound of our melodious voices drifts on sweet winds to the heavens where Jesus weeps at the ethereal beauty of it.
 

Imagine what twelve orphaned, legless cats with throat cancer purring gently while being tumble-dried sounds like and then you add to that the harmony of an unoiled swing set- you are now close to imagining what we sound like.






















We've had a few bands over the years, most notably Corn In A Sketchbook which was our Indie Band. Sketchy Corn (the band's pet name for itself) featured such hits as "I'm Really Awkward And I Love You" and "Off-Key Seranade To The Wilderness". But our phase of wearing unnecessarily lame glasses and high-waisted pants are over. No longer do we croon about our uncomfortable love in waivery voices strumming out-of-tune guitars.

Now we want to be more in touch with our badassery. Our new band is really tough and...angry. It's all about expression and our knowledge of the Street. It's really hardcore.
Welcome to THE STERS.
The name is because we aren't cool enough to be real gangsters.
Just Sters.
Zoe's rapper name is Shibizzle Nisquit and Sara's is Owlniquia.
We're really good at doing 'rap hands', but possibly not at doing rap.
Our first song is going to be about Toast.

                     

Welcome to Lurkville

Monday, April 26, 2010

Some Serious Love For The King

So today while wandering around downtown a Miraculous Occurance occured.

There is one bus stop area where Zoe lives that is right in front of the downtown mall and it is one of the best places to find awkward and unique people.
Today was no exception.
There, basking in the glorious sunlight was a guy who looked EXACTLY like a middle- aged Elvis, right down to the oily black hair. But he wasn't wearing Elvis-y attire, and he didn't seem like an impersonater so I assumed that it was just a really exciting coincidence.
But then he walked past me.
And tattooed on his neck in black script- Elvis.



Knew it.

You can't hide your love of the King.

Test Of Life!

This is Sara and Zoe's Ultimate Test of Life.
Take it...

1. Someone butts in front of you at the grocery store, you:
     a. Let it go
     b. Confront the jerk!
     c. SHOOT THEM!!!

2. A beaver forms a den in your backyard, you:
    a. SHOOT IT!
    b. Call animal control services
    c. kick it out of your yard
    d. Take pictures

3. You invite the neighbours over for a nice dinner, you wear:
     a. A cocktail dress- exposing lots of cleavage
     b. NOTHING
     c. Casual jeans and a tee shirt
     d. A fig leaf.

4. Someone offers you some Goldfish TM
, do you:
    a. Take a small amount and thank them
    b. Eat the whole bag (including the bag)
    c. SHOOT THEM!!!
    d. chuck them at the offerers face

5. Someone compliments your hair, do you:
    a. Shave off their hair
    b. Thank them and return the compliment
    c. Savagely stab them in the heart
    d. Rip out all your hair and use it to strangle them!!!

6. Some spinach is caught in your friends braces, you:
    a. Kindly inform them.
    b. Point and laugh.
    c. SHOOT THEM, rip their teeth out and BURN the body!!!
    d. Tell them to smile when their crush goes by.

7. You are at a clothing store and someone is going for the same item as you are, you:
    a. Rip it in half.
    b. Eat the item and SHOOT THEM!!
    c. Give it to them.
    d. Strangle them with it.

8. An Egyptian snake tries to bite you, you:
    a. SHOOT IT AND WEAR IT AS A SOCK!!!
    b. Become a Snake Whisperer and communicate with it.
    c. Run away.
    d. Capture it!

9. You are at a world famous cliff with a friend, you:
    a. Enjoy the veiw! Take pictures!
    b. Push your friend off.
    c. Throw yourself off.
   d. Blow the whole cliff up takeing all the tourists with you!!!

There is no question 10.



Yet...

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Thank You Loyal Lamers!

So we just wanted to say thanks to all of you who've held on during this uncomfortable dry spell on the blog.
We had exams.
We know it isn't a good excuse.
We're sorry.

Maybe this will make up for it?
It's a picture of the Lame Owls getting stabbed.
You can pretend that you are the one stabbing us if it makes you feel better.
It's okay, we understand.

Scientology Is Scary

There is a religion known as Scientology, but I didn’t really know what it was or what they believed, so Sara and I decided to check it out. We’d had a presentation in class and I guess I learned a little from that but I was still pretty unclear about what actually happened in a Scientologist Church. Essentially we didn’t understand the point of the religion. What we knew was that it was created by L. Ron Hubbard and that he was a science fiction writer in the fifties and that each church had a special office for him; we knew that there were multiple books written on the subject; we knew that there were seven levels and we knew that there was a DVD. What Sara and I didn’t know was why L. Ron had created it; why he needed an office since he was dead anyway; what exactly the books were about; what the seven levels were and why they needed a DVD. These were questions we wanted answered, and we assumed that by going directly to the source, Edmonton’s very own Church of Scientology, we would be able to solve the mystery that is Scientology.

The thing is we weren’t exactly sure how late the church would be open, so we decided to call and confirm that we would have access to it. Sara chatted awkwardly to someone for a few minutes before hanging up and informing me that she had made an appointment for seven tonight. An appointment... I can admit I was a little bit nervous about the appointment because I had heard stories about brainwash videos and that sort of thing, and the fact that the church itself is located in a sketchy part of downtown didn’t help either. In any case Sara and I prepared ourselves to find some answers and visit the church.


We went back to Starbucks first though, because we needed a Green Tea Lemonade fix really badly. And whenever we go to Starbucks we end up sitting on a bench and completely losing track of time, obviously because we are busy inventing things. And being awkward. The appointment was drawing nigh, so Sara called her mother and informed her that we were going to visit a Scientologist church, this resulted in a panicked warning from Sara’s mom to absolutely and under NO CIRCUMSTANCES were we to be lured into anyone’s basement for any reason whatsoever.


Hahaha. That’s funny because we thought she was the crazy one.


When we arrived, the first thing we saw was a large sign advertizing free stress tests in the window. The church did not really look like any church I had ever been in and it didn’t really have a spiritual feel about it, It seemed very business like and almost corporate. I know that sounds weird but I can’t really explain it, anyway it didn’t feel like a place of worship. There was an area with sofas and a big poster of Isaac Hayes stating that he was “A Member For Life” (I guess maybe he’s less embarrassing than Tom Cruise. Except he’s dead now so what does that tell you? Exactly.) In the center of the front room there was an immense rack overflowing with books about Scientology, there was also a smattering of pamphlets and some DVD’s. Unsure of how exactly to proceed in our investigation, Sara and I headed to the front desk where a man sat rifling through papers. After a quick introduction and an awkwardly limp handshake he asked us why we were here. Mr. Scientology (I can’t remember his real name so I’ll just refer to him as Mr. Scientology, or Mr. S for short) didn’t seem to understand the exact purpose of our mission and told us that we should read the book. We were soon to learn that this was pretty much his standard answer to anything and everything.


A little while and a lot of explaining later, Mr. S seemed to finally understand that we were not going to leave until we learned something so he led us to a dark room with a huge television. Brainwashing! There were a couple rows of seats and Sara and I chose to sit directly in the middle, not so close that we could get sucked into the T.V, but close enough forward that we didn’t give the impression of being terrified (which we were). I don’t know how many of you have ever sat in the dark in what is basically a miniature private movie theatre with a strange man but it sure feels like you’re going to get raped. Mr. S sat just ahead of us and swivelled around to face us, he started to explain the DVD and its components, but before showing it he gave up. “You know, I could talk myself blue in the face and you wouldn’t learn anything. You really should read the book.” That’s what he said to us. The situation had become very uncomfortable by now so Sara asked if we could see the room that was used during services. This seemed like a safe idea; surely he would be able to tell us a bit about that!


Wrong. We slipped quietly into a smallish room with a podium up front and several rows of seats. Behind the podium, on the wall, hung a large wooden cross with a star on it. We asked what a normal service would be like, were there any rituals or specifics that needed to be covered? All Mr. S could tell us was that during the services, they read from a book. We asked about the book, did it tell stories? Was it lessons or the teachings of L. Ron? Was it the Scientologist’s version of a bible or Holy Scripture? Nope. Apparently all we were going to learn about the book was that it was indeed a book. How useful. The conversation had lapsed into a sad and uncomfortable death so I asked about the cross and its significance to the religion, I asked because I have always associated it with Jesus and Christianity. Mr. S said that it was very important and significant except he couldn’t remember why, but if I read the book I would find out. After a few more fruitless attempts to initiate a conversation in which we might find out a thing or two about Scientology, I asked if we could see the office reserved for L. Ron Hubbard.


The office was a tiny roped-off room with a desk a lamp and a photo of L. Ron himself, it was much smaller that I had anticipated and quite empty. We asked why it was there and received a response that was not really satisfactory, Mr. S just said that it was because he was the founder. Well thanks, but we already knew that. We tried several more awkward questions before Mr. S led us to a table piled high with pamphlets and free DVDs and loaded us up with them. He also gave us a full run down of all the books we could possibly purchase, he also mentioned that the Scientologists had graciously donated some to our school and that they were probably in our library. Luckily, Sara remembered the sign we’d seen on our way in and asked if we could take the free stress test, or perhaps an E-Meter test, Mr. S hesitated and waffled for a while before vanishing into a back room. When he came back he said we couldn’t because Mike (or something) wasn’t there and he wasn’t really qualified to give the tests. So I guess we were out of luck in that scenario too.


Finally, we decided we had had just about enough of Mr. S and his absolute refusal to be useful so we lurked around the foyer in hopes of discovering at least a crumb of new information. There were a couple of people that were sort of floating around and, in a last ditch attempt to learn something; we sidled up to the guy typing at the computer. We asked him if he could tell us anything about Scientology because we assumed that someone who worked at the church would have a clue what it was about. Well, you know what they say about people who assume things. Which is that you shouldn’t, obviously. So this rogue typing man told us that he was new and couldn’t really help us. Next we cornered a random woman and put on our nicest and most trustworthy smiles (These are very effective most of the time. Do not confuse the “trustworthy smile” with the “Winning smile” because that one is much creepier and frequently leads to unpleasantness and discomfort.); this time, determined to get some kind of reaction, we asked about a controversial subject, Psychology. I have to say, I really was expecting an answer that would instil in me at least a vague idea about why scientologists are opposed to the practice of psychology, instead we were treated to a stock answer involving a lot of hemming and hawing. That was sort of the last straw and we decided to call it a day, we thanked the woman for her time and left the building thoroughly unsatisfied.


It was dark out. It was dark and we didn’t bring sweaters and we were in Creepsville Central. There were fast cars and broken bottles. Sara and I began to fear for our lives. Instead of simply accepting that by walking two more blocks we’d be back in the ‘safe’ part of Downtown we instead became irrational and needed to huddle together and run towards the nearest coffeeshop.


It was okay though, we got a ride home.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Just Don't Feed Him After Midnight...

You may be surprized to learn that this is not a real Gremlin! It's just a toy!
It's okay if you're really impressed by our photography skills, awe is the natural reaction to have when faced with such awesomeness. Don't worry, we get it a lot.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

What Are You Looking At?

Sunday, March 21, 2010

There's Puke On The Wall.

It might not actually be puke.
But it's probably close enough to puke that we can call it that.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

TWITTER PAGE

Greetings Earthings,
We have finally gotten ourselves a Twitter page!
Follow us at lame_owl!

Friday, March 19, 2010

What a Lovely Party!

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Monday, March 1, 2010

Is This Some Sort of Cult Ritual?

That Poor Pig. 

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Yet Another Awkward Poolside Lurker

It's not cement, we think it's a toad.
Awkward...

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Sniff, Sniff.

Sometimes, its good to stop and smell that sweet scent of plastic Dollarama flowers. Yummy. 

Monday, February 22, 2010

Say Something Awkward

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Being Awkward Should Really Be An Olympic Sport.

Your Guess Is As Good As Ours.....



We don't know what the fuck it is either.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Awkward Arbus





This photograph of a boy with a grenade, by Diane Arbus, may be the most significant photograph in the lives of the Lame Owls. The moment we first came across the photo it changed everything. Suddenly our natural state of awkwardness seemed like a very beautiful thing. So today we've decided to award Diane Arbus, and this photo in particular, with our coveted Awkward Award!!!!

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Sunday, February 7, 2010

That's Hot Yoga For You.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Lovely Day For A Stroll

Monday, January 25, 2010

Abstract Art?


Saturday, January 23, 2010

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Monday, January 18, 2010

Giddyup!


Kinda like Toy Story, but with more awkward.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Where Bad Boys Go To Pray


For Bikers, By Bikers...

Sunday, January 10, 2010