At JUICEBOX HQ, we’ve never really had a case of the Mondays because we don’t have real-people jobs. But for those feeling a bit garfield this A.M., feel free to wallow in other people’s most hated things. Every Monday!

One time, Taylor Wilde picked me up and carried me down Bloor Street. I have never felt safer. She’s very strong and she has a big shiny gold belt that says so. So if you double-cross her, she will fake-punch the shit out of you. Actually, I bet she’ll really beat the shit of you. She’s seriously so strong, both ethically and in terms of brute physical strength. She is also our friend. And, as I witnessed last weekend at my first live wrestling event, famous enough for Worst Mondays. (We didn’t really realize this until drunk dudes started leering at her on the way home from the bar and yelling weird wrestling catch phrases we don’t understand. Now we’re exploiting this. Please don’t body slam us.)

Taylor Wilde, known to her best ladies as Shantelle Malawski, used to wrestle in leagues with names like Pure Women’s Action, Battle Angels, and Shimmer Women’s Athletics. Then she signed a developmental deal with World Wrestling Entertainment and was permitted use of the word “jabronies” whenever she wanted. It was during this time that I met her and she called Rick Flair from my house on New Year’s. He wasn’t home, but whatever. She has Rick Flair’s phone number! Do you? If so, let’s hang out. It’s my new friend requirement.

After dropping that WWE bullshit, Total Nonstop Action Wrestling came calling. Now Taylor spends her Thursday nights saluting adoring fans and beating the shit out of lesser lady wrestlers. Like Awesome Kong. Who is huge.

Shantelle is the TNA Women’s Knockout Champ! ISN’T THAT FUCKING AWESOME?!

Worst day-job
I only stopped working crapping day jobs about a month ago, and they all had varying degrees of being pooptastic. But a single incident at my last part-time job enables it to win the award for being the worst. I was working at Sunglass Hut at a mall in Mississauga, a job that could be maintained by a monkey, so standing around for six hours earning minimum wage wasn’t the issue. But after serving this one customer for an extended period of time he ever so politely uttered, “Aren’t you the TNA Woman’s Knockout Champion?” I handed in my resignation that day. I‘m not that broke. There is nothing cool about trying to obtain some form of superstar status while simultaneously slaving to help people find a new pair of Gucci sunglasses.

Worst haircut
My worst hair cut was self-induced, I was five. I thought it was a great idea to hide behind a couch with a pair of scissors and no mirror. I gave myself bangs, and my mom gave me a one way ticket to grounded-ville. I just think I was ahead of my time.

Worst subculture
MySpace.

Worst date
I just recently started dating again, and I wouldn’t say I’ve had any horrible dates yet. But when I was, like, 14 years old I went to a Deftones concert with a guy friend that I had a crush on. I’m not sure if he was nervous or got food posioning, but when the band started their set he became a fountain of barf. That would be the worst date that I can remember. We remained friends though.

Worst invention
Those stupid Bluetooth-things. They make people look insane because they appear to be talking to themselves, and no one is too preoccupied or busy to simply lift their phone to their ear. I saw three people in line at Tim Horton’s today with them on. I’m sorry, you look lame. Take them off.

Worst purchase
A really expensive suede couch and bed that I left in Florida after a break up. I rue the day I made those purchases.

Worst way to die
Drowning.