no good dumbo nothing

  • I have owned 3 dogs in my adult life. All three were adopted from rescue organizations. In all three cases I signed contracts that held various stipulations like that I would get the pet neutered, that this animal would be a pet that lived indoors and not an animal used for work and so on. When I adopted Maddie I had to promise not to eat her (no lie!). Different groups have different contracts but in essence, they all ask you to follow the same rules. The big rule is that if you cannot keep the pet, it must go back to the same rescue agency. It’s standard. Now, here’s the deal, you own the dog for say 5 years and suddenly you have to go to the moon and you can’t take the dog, you could probably give the dog to a trusted friend without raising too much ire. if you own the dog for like 2 weeks and it’s too much to deal with, you have to bring it back to the rescue agency. Seriously, it’s a standard rule.
    Rescue shelters have the dog’s best interest in mind. Certainly you can go to the pound and get a cheaper dog, no questions asked. It’s easy enough. A rescue shelter sees a dog from a bad situation and wants to make sure that the dog ends up in the best possible situation for him. That’s their job. They’re not a retail store, they are a shelter. With each of my dog adoptions I was interviewed and asked any number of questions, did I have a fenced yard? How much excersise would my dog get? how much did I spend on dog food? what was my housebreaking method? where would the dog sleep at night? They aren’t trying to be monsters, they just want to make sure that the dog will be healthy and happy, they want to be sure that this dog is not a whim. Something purchased to satisfy a passing fancy and then seen as a burden once something new comes along.
    I feel bad for what happened in the whole Ellen thing, but she messed up.
  • blueberries are natures caviar!
  • Designing new lace patterns is a pain in the ass. I spent the weekend making swatches, filling in graph paper, furrowing my brow and eating blueberry pie. I may have found a solution. If so, I will keep careful notes and publish the pattern!
  • The “under the bed” area is the private domain of the little dogs. First Ghengis had it. It was his place to hide, to chew his special treats and to play goofy games with me. Chester took over immediately upon move in. 2 years of dog lair has turned into 2 years of dog hair. Last night David move the (giant king sized) bed out of the way and vacuumed the hell out of it. That’s pretty damned awesome.
  • Cheney wants to eat your baby
  • I need more yarn

…obligation….grumble….tagged….FINE

So I got tagged by Dawn to do the ‘8 random things about me’ thinger. It’s not the 8 random things….it’s trying to find 8 people to tag!
The Rules:Once tagged, you must link to the person who tagged you. Then post the rules before your list, and list 8 random things about yourself. At the end of the post, you must tag and link to 8 other people, visit their sites, and leave a comment letting them know they’ve been tagged.
hmmm randomness
1) when I see bumper stickers I often want to append things to them. “and your mom” is always my favorite option. For example, yesterday I saw a bumper sticker that said “I (heart) rhythm gymnastics”…’and your mom’. “Free Tibet”…and your mom. there’s also a lot of bumper stickers that say “Have you hugged your kids today?” to which I want to add a second sticker, “no? well I have!”. See! the back of someone’s car would tell you that the driver hugged your kids and is bragging about it!
The only bumper sticker I would never change is “My other ride is your mother”. That stick is perfection itself.
2) when i was a kid I hated oatmeal. It tasted like 12 simultaneous asses. Now, I eat it. I eat a lot of it. Of course now I don’t eat crappy quaker quick oats. now it’s all organic rolled oats because that’s how I roll (ha ha). As a child I also hated onions, olives, mushrooms, and bell peppers. There were many struggles at meal times. I still hate those things. Hate.
3) Warrantless wire tapping pisses me off to no end. I guess that’s not so random, anyone who knows me knows of my almost spiritual love for things like due process.
4) I hate Oprah. She used to be a trailblazer. Now she’s just making money rubbing the butts of suburban housewives. She used to make a difference, now it’s just “10 foods to keep you healthy” “the same ten foods in different order to make you feel better” “9 of the same foods plus a new one to eat for longevity” “10 currently popular foods” “I am on yet another diet!” “10 foods to avoid and the sketchy science behind these claims”. It’s cheap pandering. The ROI in this must be fantastic for her.
5) Once the cover of Cosmo promised to teach me to have 2 different kinds of orgasm and the secret new ways to achieve this nirvana. I was so…excited. It was almost as if someone offered to me pants that fit correctly! I snatched it up while waiting in line. I flipped to it. I think David was not as interested. I wanted to learn this in the checkout line, bag the groceries, run home and bag this new physical shangri-la.
These weren’t 2 new orgasms! These were just the 2 regular kinds of orgasms! They weren’t new techniques! These were the techniques we often engaged in!!! Then I remembered that Cosmo markets to 17 year old sluts in training, not 34 year old retired sluts.
6) The death of Ghengis is still the absolute hardest thing I have ever had to deal with. Childhood, gawky teen years, my divorce, losing my house in the divorce, all of it was hard. Losing Ghengis? Indescribable. Truly. The anniversary is coming up. It scares me.
7) Fall drains me. I feel like Persephone descending. In the spring, I rise again.
8) I believe in my heart that it would be possible to exist on an ice cream only diet! I know this can happen. I’m gonna do it or die trying.
okay, there. I’ll have to add tags this afternoon because I need to go take a shower and go to work. How does that make you feel? I wrote this post wearing only my robe and my stink.
Bonus random fact: my belly button has a funktastically bad smell. I wonder if I can claim I have a light refreshing odor if my belly button smells like this.

The mistakes we make

David and I have a game where we’ll find something the other was looking at, and attaching a note with an arrow that says “you” or “your mom” or “your nutsack” or something equally rude.
Last night I was looking at a scarf pattern online. The example scarf was not so attractive, but the stitch pattern is nice and with the right yarn it could be a lovely wrap. This morning, when I first opened my laptop I was treated to the picture of the scarf and a text box with an arrow describing all the various things it could be.
Since David gets home before I do I figured I would pull up a big picture of a nutsack, have it cover the whole screen and label it, “you”. Searching for the term “nutsack” is not so fruitful. In google image search you end up getting many images of faces.
So I thought I’d search for scrotum.
aaaaaaaagggggghhhhhhhhh
When you search for scrotum you don’t get a number of hairy teabags, oh hell no. You get the most horrifying collection diseased, battered, pained and generally broken scrotums on the planet.
The internet broke my brains.

They partied without me

Today I got a call from Mary at Wells Fargo. It seems that a sudden spending spree ranging in the thousands mostly on websites sent up all kinds of crazy flags.
Someone got my corporate credit card number and went nuts. they bought airline tickets, porn, games, porn, software, other credit card numbers from shady sites and thai porn. They ordered these things from France, Germany, Thailand, The UAE, Saudi Arabia and many more.
My personal favorite charge was listed for “Personal Service”. Dudes are hiring ho’s on my card and not even inviting me to the party! I’d offer to bring the camera, but I suspect they bought one of those as well.