Is there a matching dryer available as well???4.30.2008
Hello Kitty Washing Machine...Oh My
I was just searching for some kitteh stickers online, when lo and behold I came across the most hysterical site - Hello Kitty Hell. Some guy, whose wife loves Hello Kitty, absolutely loathes Hello Kitty and all the products that it has infiltrated. He is documenting all of the insane things that now come in a Hello Kitty version, from urinal targets to assault rifles, there is no end to the 'Hello Kittification' of goods. Since I am a HUGE Hello Kitty fan, this site really caught my eye....
Is there a matching dryer available as well???
Is there a matching dryer available as well???
Pooping Rainbows
Some folks just don't get the whole 'poops rainbows' phenomena. Well, to clarify, here's where it all started - one very adorable lolcat....
see more crazy cat pics
It's pretty self-explanatory. Her farts probably smell like roses too. Srsly...
Fainting Goats, oddly disturbing
Yes...it's a bit unsettling but still I can't look away. Grab your umbrellas and check out the freaky fainting goats.
And since they are locally grown, I just might have to get me one of these... ;)
{No animals were harmed in the making of this youtube video.}
And since they are locally grown, I just might have to get me one of these... ;)
Who Shat in My House
I had a mental breakdown this morning. It didn't require hospitalization, but, it's not over yet, it still might. During the post-breakdown cleanup, my creative juices began to flow....
My dog, he shat.
He shat in my room,
in the corner, and on a pillow,
and on a bedside table, he shat.
He lay in his shat, he walked in his shat,
he trailed his shat throughout the whole house, he shat.
This was no ordinary shat, it was loose shat,
the worst kind of shat, the metallic smelling shat.
I hate my dog, my dog that shat.
Here's a haiku on the topic:
in my room
a dog shats
scent of poo
or how about this one:
through the poo
a dog walks
messy trail is made
And the backstory is this. Someone gave me a big bag of dog food a few days ago. It's not my dogs' normal food, but they seemed to like it. They ate it for breakfast one morning. I leave for work. I then come home from work and discover that SOMEONE has broken into the pantry (by opening the door to it - what, did you grow an opposable thumb while I was gone?) and has helped themselves to a ginormous portion of the new bag of dog food. Apparently SOMEONE really, really liked it. I then take the dogs out - and boy do they have to poo. But, it's fine b/c it's outside. They poo. Later, I foolishly go to bed, not realizing what hell would be awaiting me in a few short hours. I wake up, it's 6am. At first consciousness, a smell hits my nostrils that I know well...that I distinctly remember and loathe - it's the metallic scent of diarrhea and it is close....very close. My heart starts to race, my blood begins to boil, I shout out in anger, 'DAMN IT, YESCA', for I know he is the culprit, we've been down this road before. Yesca, sleeping contentedly in the corner, is apparently annoyed by my early morning loudness, he opens one eye and looks at me. I turn on a light before actually getting up and that was my ONLY saving grace, b/c if I had taken even one step off the bed into the darkness in any direction, I would have had poo on my foot (similar to 'sh*t on your face', but it actually is poo on your foot).
The sh*tty (pun intended) Apocalypse Now scenario that surrounded my bed would have been enough to send the inexperienced poop handler into anaphylactic shock. My isle de bed was essentially floating on an ocean of liquid poo. It was everywhere...I could barely make out clear ground off in the distance. Yesca had diarrhea-ed in several strategic locations around the bed, and then he must have proceeded to walk through them REPEATEDLY, trailing the mess even further then it ran on it's own liquid accord. I'm a little frantic, this is not how anyone wants to start the day (unless you are in HELL, maybe). I'm trying to find a way to get off the bed and to the cleaning supplies (and SHOES - must get shoes) all the while trying not to retch or kill the dog (with my evil thoughts), who is lying just beyond the gulf de poo he created. He sees me being frantic and decides to *aid* me in my morning frenzy by getting up and walking towards me THROUGH the poo. ‘NO, STOP, STOOOOP, GO BACK’, I yell at him along with a slur of other early morning curses that probably awaken the neighbors, but he doesn’t understand the STOP command, why, b/c I’ve never felt the need to teach it to him. He’s walking towards me now in slow motion, I know he’s going to reach the bed and jump on it with poo on his paws. It’s not enough that there is poo all over the floor, but, heaven help me if the poo gets on the bed. (yep, that’s where I draw the line – that’s where I go from ‘can handle’ to ‘insane in the membrane’ – so, we can’t go there). I scream at him at the top of my lungs, ‘YESCA, SIT, LAY DOWN’ (these are commands he knows) – and he sits and then he lays down…...in his sea of poo. All I can do is let out a big *SIGH*, the stars might all be aligned against me this morning, but at least no poo is on the bed....for now.
In summary, I do eventually make it off the bed; I clean *most* of the mess, as much as I could before running out of paper towels, cleaner and even garbage bags (of course, it’s my lucky day); there was poo on my bedside table (R U KIDDING ME – WTF!); there was poo on a pillow (now called GARBAGE) that had fallen off the bed; I hose off my dog in the front yard at 6:30 a.m. - always fun; all dogs are given pepto bismol; I make it to work somewhat on time; I dread the return home this evening where I’m going to have to pick up where I left off, scrubbing dried poo prints from the floor. Gag reflex activates just thinking about it.
Here’s a final Haiku on the topic:
paw print
forged in poo
scrub, scrub, scrub
Yesca, enjoys eating dog food and shatting indoors.
My dog, he shat.
He shat in my room,
in the corner, and on a pillow,
and on a bedside table, he shat.
He lay in his shat, he walked in his shat,
he trailed his shat throughout the whole house, he shat.
This was no ordinary shat, it was loose shat,
the worst kind of shat, the metallic smelling shat.
I hate my dog, my dog that shat.
Here's a haiku on the topic:
in my room
a dog shats
scent of poo
or how about this one:
through the poo
a dog walks
messy trail is made
And the backstory is this. Someone gave me a big bag of dog food a few days ago. It's not my dogs' normal food, but they seemed to like it. They ate it for breakfast one morning. I leave for work. I then come home from work and discover that SOMEONE has broken into the pantry (by opening the door to it - what, did you grow an opposable thumb while I was gone?) and has helped themselves to a ginormous portion of the new bag of dog food. Apparently SOMEONE really, really liked it. I then take the dogs out - and boy do they have to poo. But, it's fine b/c it's outside. They poo. Later, I foolishly go to bed, not realizing what hell would be awaiting me in a few short hours. I wake up, it's 6am. At first consciousness, a smell hits my nostrils that I know well...that I distinctly remember and loathe - it's the metallic scent of diarrhea and it is close....very close. My heart starts to race, my blood begins to boil, I shout out in anger, 'DAMN IT, YESCA', for I know he is the culprit, we've been down this road before. Yesca, sleeping contentedly in the corner, is apparently annoyed by my early morning loudness, he opens one eye and looks at me. I turn on a light before actually getting up and that was my ONLY saving grace, b/c if I had taken even one step off the bed into the darkness in any direction, I would have had poo on my foot (similar to 'sh*t on your face', but it actually is poo on your foot).
The sh*tty (pun intended) Apocalypse Now scenario that surrounded my bed would have been enough to send the inexperienced poop handler into anaphylactic shock. My isle de bed was essentially floating on an ocean of liquid poo. It was everywhere...I could barely make out clear ground off in the distance. Yesca had diarrhea-ed in several strategic locations around the bed, and then he must have proceeded to walk through them REPEATEDLY, trailing the mess even further then it ran on it's own liquid accord. I'm a little frantic, this is not how anyone wants to start the day (unless you are in HELL, maybe). I'm trying to find a way to get off the bed and to the cleaning supplies (and SHOES - must get shoes) all the while trying not to retch or kill the dog (with my evil thoughts), who is lying just beyond the gulf de poo he created. He sees me being frantic and decides to *aid* me in my morning frenzy by getting up and walking towards me THROUGH the poo. ‘NO, STOP, STOOOOP, GO BACK’, I yell at him along with a slur of other early morning curses that probably awaken the neighbors, but he doesn’t understand the STOP command, why, b/c I’ve never felt the need to teach it to him. He’s walking towards me now in slow motion, I know he’s going to reach the bed and jump on it with poo on his paws. It’s not enough that there is poo all over the floor, but, heaven help me if the poo gets on the bed. (yep, that’s where I draw the line – that’s where I go from ‘can handle’ to ‘insane in the membrane’ – so, we can’t go there). I scream at him at the top of my lungs, ‘YESCA, SIT, LAY DOWN’ (these are commands he knows) – and he sits and then he lays down…...in his sea of poo. All I can do is let out a big *SIGH*, the stars might all be aligned against me this morning, but at least no poo is on the bed....for now.
In summary, I do eventually make it off the bed; I clean *most* of the mess, as much as I could before running out of paper towels, cleaner and even garbage bags (of course, it’s my lucky day); there was poo on my bedside table (R U KIDDING ME – WTF!); there was poo on a pillow (now called GARBAGE) that had fallen off the bed; I hose off my dog in the front yard at 6:30 a.m. - always fun; all dogs are given pepto bismol; I make it to work somewhat on time; I dread the return home this evening where I’m going to have to pick up where I left off, scrubbing dried poo prints from the floor. Gag reflex activates just thinking about it.
Here’s a final Haiku on the topic:
paw print
forged in poo
scrub, scrub, scrub
Yesca, enjoys eating dog food and shatting indoors.4.17.2008
Why I hate Disney, Interstate Highways, and Strip Malls
T.D. Allman wrote an article on Orlando for National Geographic titled, 'Orlando Beyond Disney - The Theme-Parking, Megachurching, Franchising, Exurbing, McMansioning of America. How Walt Disney Changed Everything.' It really captures the heart of many of the reasons why I think Orlando has gone to hell in a handbag. Sad but true. Be sure to check out the Photo Gallery (look for your house or heck your new neighborhood), the Learn More link (bit on Joel Hunter of Northland) and the Map (waaaaahhhh...it's not even been 40 years).
The title of the article could really be shortened to 'Why Walt Disney Ruined Everything'.
Whoze broke it!
I get home from work and walk into the kitchen only to discover, YET ANOTHER, of my pottery-night masterpieces lying in shards. It was used as a kitty watering hole for several years and here it now sits in a pool of its own blood, er....uh, water. Hardened flecks of clay float on the surface of the watery grave, oh, I mean kitchen counter.
I can only imagine what sort of kitty shenanigans could have led to this sort of malicious destruction. So many questions remain. Was it a hate crime? Were dogs involved? Of even more consequence, was the rabbit involved? Did one angry individual act alone or was it a carefully orchestrated crime of passion. Again, so many questions remain.
The kitties continue about their business as if nothing at all is out of place. I've got my suspects. There will be retribution for this heinous crime...as soon as I get the DNA results back from the lab.
Maybe I could get Orlando police to install a surveillance camera in my kitchen, it's a matter of public safety really.
I can only imagine what sort of kitty shenanigans could have led to this sort of malicious destruction. So many questions remain. Was it a hate crime? Were dogs involved? Of even more consequence, was the rabbit involved? Did one angry individual act alone or was it a carefully orchestrated crime of passion. Again, so many questions remain.
The kitties continue about their business as if nothing at all is out of place. I've got my suspects. There will be retribution for this heinous crime...as soon as I get the DNA results back from the lab.
Maybe I could get Orlando police to install a surveillance camera in my kitchen, it's a matter of public safety really.
4.09.2008
Addicted to America
OK...so, now every afternoon this week about the same time, I get this song called Sister Golden Hair by the group America stuck in my head. I have no idea why this keeps happening b/c I don't even have the radio on or anything. Maybe someone somewhere in the office is quietly humming the song and my sub-conscious is picking up on it. Hoo Noes! So, I go online in search of it b/c the ONLY way to get rid of a song stuck in your head is to actually go and listen to it (srsly, folks) - and so I find myself watching yet this same youtube video again...and again...and again...
I think all the clapping is rather mesmerizing. ;) There's this one point (~1:05) where the camera zooms in on some ladies in the front row who are being sent to the back for some reason or another by the *STAFF* (Ma'am, you apparently have no rhythm, I'm going to have to ask you to leave). I know...fascinating, really - but, I was only alive for three years out the 70's decade and this is exactly how I remember them! ;)
I think all the clapping is rather mesmerizing. ;) There's this one point (~1:05) where the camera zooms in on some ladies in the front row who are being sent to the back for some reason or another by the *STAFF* (Ma'am, you apparently have no rhythm, I'm going to have to ask you to leave). I know...fascinating, really - but, I was only alive for three years out the 70's decade and this is exactly how I remember them! ;)
4.08.2008
Pest Control
Bugs don't last long at my place - the onsite pest control see to that.
Your ill-fated decision to crawl under my front door, mr. cockroach, will cost you your life.
Your ill-fated decision to crawl under my front door, mr. cockroach, will cost you your life.
Death by Chocolate
I mean, really folks, how much more is it going to take for you to get off your asses and start living a more green lifestyle!No, seriously, the image leads to a brief, critical article on how Haagen-Dazs is funding research into the Colony Collapse Disorder affecting bees across our country. It's only logical that they'd throw some money towards the issue since their livelihood is dependent on the bees' survival.
I wonder if this is in anyway tied to the recent epidemic of dying bats.
Disturbing....yes.
4.04.2008
Order to the Chaos
Just finished de-stickering and de-cheerio-ing the sofa. ;) Please note the impressive pattern to the sticker collage - it's not random in the slightest!
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