Not all posts have to be funny, putting aside the dirty jokes for a moment

Sometimes it is necessary to take the time to clear the air and to break things down for the ignorant people that polute other peoples lives. Every person will have to face an ignoramus at one point or another, we will all have those people who will try to defecate on our hopes and dreams and can't pull their own head out of their ass for a moment to realize sometimes small things mean more in life then all the big things combined to some of us. When I started this blog I didn't think I would have anyone reading it, I could never imagine that even one person out there would care enough to read my simple, unintelligent, baffling bullshit that I would be typing and posting. But for me, I needed this. Sometimes in life things get to heavy, the shear weight of your past and your shattered soul from life's complications become too much of a burden for ones heart to handle. My comfort blanket is my humour. The day my brother died I tried to laugh to myself that I wouldn't have to pay him back the $20 I owed him, or that I could now have the sweater of his he would never let me wear, it was much easier to make a joke and find a laugh then it was to face the fact that my life as I knew it was destroyed. Sometimes when you're the funny person, people forget to ask if you're doing okay, because us funny people are experts in turning any situation into an entertaining tale so people always just assume we are happy go lucky people. To some people this blog is just dumb and a waste of time, to me it's a saving grace, my own thoughts and sadness were weighing me down the last year or so, I couldn't find a way to make my self happy. Every time I see that even one person read my blog my heart heals itself a little. Ever since I was really little I loved making people laugh, laughter is the best medicine. I don't have any other talents, I'm not skinny, pretty or tall enough to be a model, or smart enough to be a doctor, I'm not deligent enough to go to law school for a decade to become a lawyer. But...I am witty and funny enough to write some stupid, haphazard words down and present it in a way that will always get a laugh. And for me, that's worth it, that's my talent, that's my forte. When I was little and you asked my mom what her kids would grow up to be she would say my sister would be a lawyer, my brother would be an architect and I would be a comedian. At the time I was insulted, how could you think your daughter would ONLY be a comedian, but now my heart grows with joy as I finally realize that's what I want to do, I don't care if I make a dime off of that, or if my name is never a headliner of a comedy show, or if no one beyond my circle or friends and family reads my blog. I am doing my part in this universe by making people laugh. I always think about how my blog or my humor could change someone's mood, shift your thoughts from sad, depressing, heartbreaking thoughts to funny, uplifted moods because I made you laugh about a crooked penis. I always think that if someone made my brother laugh 8 years ago the day he was planning on committing suicide he may be here to enjoy my successes instead of me writing comedy to mask a crushed soul that was left behind from his decision to end his life. Comedy makes life seem more bearable for me, if I can make a joke out of it, it's not that bad. I lay in bed at night and rehearse my stand up act, and imagine how loud the audience will laugh at certain jokes, or I will look into the crowd and see someone wipe a tear from their face because they are laughing so hard, and in that 5 minutes I'm on stage I'm doing my part, I'm making people forget about their worries and their pain, in that moment I am sharing my comfort blanket of comedy with them. To anyone who thinks this is a dumb blog and that I'm wasting my time chasing a dream, or if you get annoyed that I blow up Facebook with this stuff, I just want to say go check yourself and your life out before you speak another word to me, what do you offer to this world to make it better? Be happy for me that I get to live out a childhood dream, some kids wanted to be superheroes, or race car drivers or astronauts, I wanted to make people laugh, be happy that I get to live out a life long dream in a simple, yet plausible manner. And I'm sorry I got real sappy on this, and I promise you I have a blog post about vagina doctors coming up real soon. As always, thanks to everyone who say things to me like 'Leanne, grow a pair, stop thinking you're not funny enough' you are the people who matter. As well, 6000 + blog views..boooo yaaaa!

'The shit my friends and family say', featuring guest writer Tyler Hubz

Hello ! Well I guess I should start by saying my name is Tyler and I am Leanne's cousin. I've known Leanne since I guess you could say her birth, weve always gotten along fairly well although you would never guess we're related. If we were walking down the street together and you saw us most would think were a couple of fuck tards who just got off shift at the recycling depot. Anyways the topic at hand today is gonna be hospitals. You see I recently had surgery at st.pauls hospital in Saskatoon Saskatchewan, that is where I live , and no I don't fuck my sister or cousins, I don't wear overalls or plaid shirts with cowboy boots, that shit only happens in the united states, saskatoon is a normal fuckin city ok? Anyway, back to the hospital, so I went in for surgery and anyone who has had surgery knows that you are not allowed to eat or drink anything for like 24 hours before your surgery, which I understand I guess. So I am waiting in a room on the second floor to go in for surgery and at this point its been what seems like a week I haven't eaten and Im fucking starving and thirsty to the point where the old man beside me with tubes keeping him alive is starting to look like a fucking turkey leg, but I know I can manage. So finally I get called to go up for surgery and they tell me to take the elevator to the 5th floor and they give me the directions. I get in the elevator press 5, the door closes, the elevator goes up, I reach floor 5 the ding goes off and the doors open. As soon as those doors open my immediate thought is " oh you dirty fucking cunts ". Those doors opened and I walked into willy wonkas fucking chocolate factory!!! There were vending machines with chips, cookies, sandwiches, fucking icecream, pop, juice, energy drinks, chocolate bars you name it and it was in a vending machine lining the hallway leading to the operating room check in area. Now Im not a genius or anything but Im pretty fuckin sure the guy who has the authority to make that judgement call was just being a fuckin dick face thinking he is funny!! Is it really necessary to have the west edmonton mall food court on a fuckin hospital floor full of people that haven't eaten in 24 hours and can't eat ? The worse part is that when you awake from surgey and 24 hours of not eating the bastards feed you a piece of stale fucking toast with crunchy peanut butter that started out as smooth peanut butter back in 1995. Thats pretty much all I gotta say about that bullshit, hope you enjoyed my miserable experience!

VLOG time...it's all about eyebrows!

Forgive me in this video, I'm a grumpy clam, and starting to get sick! Check out the youtube video at .... http://youtu.be/BjpEC-5d8DM

Autocorrect,you cock blocking son of a bitch.

As if being single isn't hard enough, us single people have to contend with many variables that keep us single. Such as, the friend in the club acting as a wing man/woman but really just complicates the situation and ends up ruining the chance of us single people getting it in that night. But now we have a new-aged cock blocking system that is sure to dry up a vagina or limp up a dick faster than you can press send on your cell phone. This cock blocking son of a bitch is.....auto correct. Technology has come a long way in the last 5 years, whoever invented auto correct and predictive text was both a genius and a royal ass hat all mixed into one human being. Way back yonder when you were dating or swooning someone you had to get out some ink and paper and write a love letter to your sweetheart and mail it off, and in 3 to 5 business days your cutie would receive this steaming hot letter full of cute poems, maybe a little taboo naughty talk, then in turn they would write down their feelings and send off their reply of written love whispers and the multiple paragraphs about how they long for your tender touch. Now, thanks to the easy access of email, Facebook, and texts we can send our filthy thoughts, needs and wants all over the damn place in a matter of seconds. But touchscreens and autocorrect combined with greasy Doritos fingers really put a damper on the mood. The lights are turned down low, your pants are on the ground next to your bed, you get out your phone and decide to text the man you've been swooning after. You type, 'baby, I long for your touch, I miss your breath down the back of my neck, I want you to lick my titties....' You press send, and just when it's too late and the little check mark indicating your message has been sent to the recipient, you realize, auto correct thinks it knows better and has changed all your words. Now my message says, 'Bobby, I long for your tongue, I miss your breasts down the back of my taint, I want you to lick my midgets....' Dude replies back saying 'first of all, my name isn't Bobby, it's Jacob, and I don't really feel comfortable with your love of men with breasts, and what exactly is a taint? And why do you have midgets?! They are people too, Leanne...they are not pets....I don't think we should see each other anymore....' Wellllll for fuck sakes autocorrect. You sure know how to make a penis invert don't you?!

Ever wonder why Santa's cheeks are red?

People who are counting down until Christmas need to simmer the fuck down. Santa would be disappointed in your behaviour. Santa is a distinguished man with a beard and most importantly a moustache, he doesn't want you worrying about Christmas until Movember is over, let's take the time to get excited about the glorious month of moustache rides, they provide great entertainment and are usually free! Unlike Christmas which costs people a ridiculous amount of money. So friends, count down til Movember! It's such a lovely month, men raise money for a great cause, women get facial hair tickling their inner thighs, and if you're lazy and don't want to shave either, your inner thighs can tickle his moustache back! It's so romantic! My fav part about Movember is how it's like playing a game of Russian roulette when you're single, you meet a guy with a stellar moustache and you don't know if he's participating in Movember or if he is just a creep with a dirty moustache that smells like a mixture of dried salami and a hooker named Brandie Alexis. I recently told someone who was talking about Christmas to calm down and put the count down to a halt and she threw an ounce of attitude towards me and said 'listen, Santa only comes once a year...' Bitch, have you seen Mrs. Claus' caboose? Baby got back, I doubt Santa only comes once a year *wink wink*. Why do you think Santa's cheeks are always so red? They are all chaffed from giving moustache rides during the month of Movember!

VLOG time

http://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=youtu.be&v=0T92RpfUZIU&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D0T92RpfUZIU%26feature%3Dyoutu.be

Lee's Lessons of Love Volume 2

I was asked if I could write a post about one solid piece of advice for people in relationships. I'm not sure why, seeing as I'm single as fackkkkk. But I guess I can spit some knowledge at you regardless. I'm going to start off by saying some simple things that will benefit your relationship. Ladies; always...and I mean always wash your hands after cutting up jalapeños, do not give your man a hand job after cutting up those spicy lil fuckers, he will greatly appreciate that, no one wants a burning penis. Also ladies, shave your legs above and beyond the knees sometimes, men like that. I recently described my legs as a 'mullet' to a friend, it's like smooth and then hairy, business then partyyyyyy starting from the ankles up. Men, your advice is simple, stop being fucking morons. Nah, I'm just kidding, send your girl some flowers to work...no don't bring them home and give them to her...bitches love to show off in front of other bitches, we want everyyyy other woman around us to know how great our man is. We are catty bitches, it's messed up, we know. But on to some real advice. This applies mostly to the ladies. When your man fucks up you usually send him to the couch to sleep. Don't do this. Remember when you were little and would get grounded and sent to your room, you'd be like hellllll yessss, I can sit in my room, away from my annoying siblings and play GameBoy alllll day and night. It's the exactttt same when you tell your significant other to sleep on the couch. It's not a punishment, the guy gets to watch sports all night, maybe rent a Debbie Does Dallas adult video, eat snacks, fart all over the place and live the good life. I speak from experience. Many years ago I lived with a boyfriend. I spent hours cooking an amazing meal, consisting of ribs, double baked stuffed potatoes, sautéed garlic green beans and...AND homemade funnel cake...his fav....and this chump came home from work like 3 hours late. I was livid. Instead of getting mad and telling him to sleep on the couch, I thought..I'm going to ruin his night...soooo what did I do. I turned up the heat in the apartment, pulled out 3 extra blankets out of the closet, put on super warm fuzzy clothing, and asked him if we could cuddle in bed. I wanted to make this so uncomfortable for him, it'd be uncomfortable for me too, but fuck it, a lesson needs to be taught. So we spooned...I was the big spoon,if I was the lil spoon he would be able to feel my ass with his pelvic area and that's unacceptable. So I spooned the shit out of him, it was about 120 degrees with the heat on, plus our body heat, and to top that off, I insisted we talk about our feelings, I asked him every annoying question a girl could, 'what should we name our kids, what's on your mind, name 11 things you love about me, lets talk about every little detail about our dream wedding, I think we should make a scrapbook, lets describe what every page will look like, can you tell me where every freckle I have on my body is? If not I will cry hysterically because that means you don't love me, I told him about the first time I got my period and what it was like to become a woman..' And I made sure every time I said anything I breathed my hot breath onto the back of his neck. Finally he broke down under the heat and pressure and said 'I'm sorry I was late, it'll never happen again....' Haaaaa. I win. But you know...I'm single, solo, alone, without a partner,sitting alone at weddings, don't get invites to couples dinner parties at friends houses, people trying to set me up with their crossed eyed cousin...so take this advice or leave it.