Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Furballs Run My Household

Shit I've said to the dogs in the past week:

But my feet are so TASTY! It's exhausting...

  • Stop licking your feet.
  • Thor, don't bite Chewy's face when he's coming back in. Wait until he's through the door, fucker, it's COLD out there.
  • Seriously, Thor, stop eating your goddamn feet.
  • It's rude to stare at my plate.
  • No, you can't have anything here (pointing at plate). MINE.
  • Uh Oh!! (note this is immediately followed by two lumbering oafs barreling into our little kitchen to clean up whatever edible bits of tasty goodness I dropped on the floor).
  • Thor, I can pee on my own. I don't need your help. Wait outside.
  • Godammit, I said DO NOT push the door open!
  • Sigh Fine. Get your nose out of my face...I saw you eat poop earlier.
  • THOR!  (followed by a pointed look from me to the dog who's foot is in his mouth. Again. He generally drops it, sighs, and stares at me forlornly).
  • Chewy! NO BLOWJOBS!! Leave your brother's junk alone, dude. That's gross.
  • Biscuit!
  • Chew! Get out of the way or I'll have Luke cut off your other arm.*
  • Breakfast!**
  • Dinner!**
*Chewy = giant white fluffball, with teeth. Although he's unlikely to save people in his ice cave to eat later (because it's really way too much work), he'd probably enjoy an ice cave of his own. Also, he's never met a Jedi, but I imagine he'd like them. The only people he dislikes are those who run through HIS backyard and disrupt his view of the frozen tundra.
That would be root beer all over my nose. It was yummy.

Seriously, if you STILL don't get this reference, all I can say is go have a Star Wars marathon. In the proper order: IV, V, VI, I, II, III (if you must...I hated II and III, to be honest. All that horrific WHINING by Hayden Christensen...ugh).

**Both of my dogs do actually know the words "Breakfast" and "dinner." It's the best way to get them to come a-runnin if they're dawdling during a pee break. They also know "biscuit," "bath," "ball", "Furface," "treats," "cheeseburgers," "ride/car/go," "walk," "dog park," "wipe your mouth" and "use your words." Sometimes their vocabulary is entertaining. Sometimes it's irritating as hell.

Monday, February 24, 2014

Random Bits: Xena, Lazy Eyed Lispy Dogs, Belly Dance. These items are unrelated.

I'm filling out paperwork for the spring bellydance sessions I teach in two community education districts, and I'm reminded of a post I did a couple of years ago about this exact topic. Original post here:

In other news, "Bring Xena Back" was one of the ways people found my blog on today's stats. I'm furiously proud, and yet baffled (it's been well over a year since I posted about my undying love for Xena and She-Ra...a fact that saddens me some, so look for a new Xena post soon).

There's an internet rumor going around that Farscape will have a sequel. I approve.

We're going to Cocoa Beach in a few weeks (flying with Han, who is now 18 months old or so, should be an adventure and a half all by itself). It IS possible to lose 100 lbs in two weeks, but I don't fancy getting hit by a truck to do so. Therefore, I'm buying some fabulous fat girl shorts and giving no additional shits to my size while on vacation. That is all.

It's below zero again in MN this morning, and all I can do is continue telling myself that next winter I'll be in Houston, where anything close to freezing is a state disaster. I can't wait.

And that concludes the random crap in my brain this morning. You may now return to your regularly scheduled Monday. If you need some silly...

Thank you, Facebook. 

Friday, February 21, 2014


You guys, my Spam adventures (not to be confused with SPAM) have expanded to Facebook messages!


I am very sorry for distracting your attention,I am Barrister Patrick Lawson,personal attorney to my Late Client Mr.A. REDACTED,a national of your country, Who died and left some huge amount of money  with a bank here in my Country Lome-Togo, valued at US$18.5 million dollars. I have contacted you to assist me get this money transferred into your bank account for our mutual benefit.Since you bear the same last name and also a national of your Country.

Kindly get back to me With the following information through my private email for more clarification. ( )

Full name................
private number.........
Your Fax Number........
private email....

Faithfully Yours

Barrister Patrick Lawson
Phone. +228

You'll note I left this super-spammer's deets even though I took out stuff like my last name. I'm REALLY amused that the message didn't even bother getting my full name from FB (JUST my last name).

Barrister Patrick Lawson, if you're out there somewhere...I think not, dude. Really, is there ANYONE stupid enough to fall for this crap?

What happens if all of, say, Twitter emailed this dude and asked for his bank account info to transfer $18m to him? Would he be spammed out?

Could we all tell him we have cases of super tasty pork product SPAM to send to his home country if he wires us all $18m?

Disclaimer: Please do not send this dude Spam (of the edible or email/facebook variety). I shared to pass along because this stuff is ridiculous, and if you see something from the email address it's fake-o-rama.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Things Are Weird Right Now, So: DISTRACTIONS!

There are some bigass changes in the works in my house, and the next couple of months are probably going to drive me to baldness. This should not be confused with big ASS changes, which implies something is changing about my big ass. It is not currently, as I greatly enjoy Thin Mints and the season is upon us.

So today I'm practicing the time-honored cowardly technique of dealing with stress: Avoidance. PS: did you know my calendar at home is STILL on the January picture so I remember to finish that little scene and go on to February's picture? Yeah. Avoidance.

As such, I'm reviewing the top three non-traditional pets of my past. These are in addition to the myriad of kittens, horses, calves, chickens, and Canadian geese we housed on the farm where I grew up. 

1) Petey the Precocious Pygmy Goat. 

If you've never seen a pygmy goat (or a goat in general, I suppose) it may be hard to envision the cuteness, so the internets provided a fabulous representation. Petey lived most of his short life on a lunge line in our front yard during the day, bleating and frolicking between deck of our house, the grass, and his little pen with a shelter which he rarely slept IN but often stood on. 

Did you know that goats, even kid goats the size of a gangly-legged puppy, have the jumping and climbing power to get on top of cars?

 Did you know that hoof prints the size of a quarter all over the car is (probably damaging) cute as hell? Unless of course you consider goats (and the associated tiny prints) to be signs of the which case I suspect you found my blog by a horrible horrible mistake and I apologize for the nightmares).

Petey, unfortunately, didn't last terribly long. He got sick and died pretty suddenly. He was followed by Precious (who was a MASTER at jumping out of her "pen" (a laundry basket) in the house as a baby and had a fabulous time frolicking in our yard when spring hit.

No, I was not responsible for naming either goat. 

2) Guinea Hens 

Speaking of Satan, I fully support the idea that the horrendous noise Guinea Hens make could wake the dead and annoy the fuck out of demons. They certainly annoy the fuck out of me. But they eat woodticks so they're handy to have roaming the yard. Also, their diet is the #1 reason I REFUSE to eat them even though people swear they're tasty. But if you are what you eat and they eat ticks I'd just be eating tick-by-association and THAT'S GODDAMNED GROSS. 

3) The UnStud Pony

I don't count him as one of the horses. Mostly because he hated me. Sigh. When I was in high school we adopted a local little by stud Shetland cross pony by accident. Yes. By accident. He'd gotten away from his house and the owners said "hey, you already have horses, why don't you just keep him?"

Because a small, fat pony was EXACTLY what a house full of tall Scandahoovians (who could probably step over him) needed. But he was cute as hell and nobody wanted him to be sent away, so there you go. We took him.

Anyway, if you know horses at all you probably know that studs can be a little...hmm...unmanageable. Even when they're short. In order for us to get him adopted by a nice family, our boy had to get the snip-snipperoo. I imagine the same people who won't get their dogs neutered are currently crossing their legs, but that's the way of life on a farm, people.

So the process for these ball removing shenanigans is for the vet to come do the actual procedure (which takes all of 15 minutes, if I remember correctly) in his vet-like manner, and for the next two weeks or so SOMEONE has to make that poor nutless pony walk for at least 15 minutes twice a day. As I'm sure you can imagine, there's some soreness involved in the healing process, so walking isn't really the best loved exercise for a stiff-legged sore-crotch pony.

That pony hated the fucking sight of me after two days. I coaxed him with treats, I was immensely gentle and walked really slow. I brushed and attended to him. He loathed me: I was the bitch who made him hurt for two weeks while he healed. Sigh. I've had horses since I was born. I remember all their names. I remember all their quirks. I remember all their favorite treats.

I CANNOT REMEMBER THIS PONY'S NAME. I remember how cute he was. I remember him staring at me with one baleful eye from under a thick forelock. I remember him stiffly shuffling away when I tried to catch him in the pen every morning. To this day I can't remember his name. As a pet he was pretty much an epic fail. But he WAS ridiculously cute.

What was (or is) your oddest pet? 

Wednesday, February 05, 2014

Point to You, Yahoo Spam Mail. Your Message Is Clear.

So, as of this morning:

  • I'm broke but I can get cash in an hour!
  • I'm an *ahem* underhung dude (or I have size self-esteem problems) but NO WORRIES: we can extend you!
  • I'm lonely, but luckily there's both Match and eHarmony to accommodate my dating tastes.
  • If dating with my newly enlarged junk is too painful, I can take supplements for my old-man-overused-joint problems!
  • And unfortunately even though I have all these quick fixes:
    •  Death and Taxes are COMING TO GET ME. 
I am thoroughly amused. After all, aren't death and taxes coming to get everyone eventually? 

Death and Taxes are on the way, so get your junk in shape, take some pills, borrow a shitload of cash and "date" as many people as you can? Well, I suppose that's a philosophy, Yahoo Mail. Point to you. 

In other news, I owe a January story from my 2014 Calendar Story Project. I'm starting a new page to my blog for free stories (meaning the ones I don't submit for publication anywhere and just write for the hell of it). Look for that later this week.