fulfilling a niche

4:18 PM

this might just be the best dog ever:

Learn more about Stout here.

4:30 PM

they don't lie

I watched a commercial swear up and down that Breathe Right Advanced Nasal Strips help people who suffer from allergies sleep like babies on bourbon. I bought a box last night day and slept for five hours straight, which is pretty fantastic for me. I awoke feeling like they were worth every penny, until I noticed that the strip was now on my neck and not my nose.

Yes, they are that powerful. I highly recommend this product.

4:05 PM

getting ready for fire season

CA must prepare for the coming of June, also known as "summer" in other parts of the country. It turns out that 2 minorites who own many, many goats and 2 dogs are cheaper than 200 minorities who own gardening tools, so this is the way in which hillsides are cleared:

 

I happen to meet the Kim Kardashian of goats the other day. Maybe only male goats have horns, but I don't care enough to google that. Times are hard. Time is money. Money can't buy happiness. Happiness is a soft pillow. S/he was wearing fur and had a blank look on its face. I'm not googling this either, but you know there's a sex tape out there. If you have the time and fortitude, Godspeed.

3:33 PM

fakin' it

I'm moving from place to place as if on an escalator; no memory of lifting my feet or walking from here to there. It's kind of like when you're driving and you look at something, coming to the realization that you're almost at work, but have no memory of the road traveled. Or maybe that's just me. I'm on my second cup of coffee (third, if you count the cup I had at home, but it was barely a cup, so it's not record breaking) and still nothing. I'm in what I remember as a medicated haze (my short-lived relationship with Wellbutrin to quit smoking), but am sober. I guess this is what happens when your bad sleeping patterns reach month long cycles and you don't go to the chiropractor because you're too busy walking dogs before the sun goes down and your stupid chiropractor feels like reasonable office hours end before 8:30pm. This keyboard is stupid. My ear is twitching. Or maybe I just feel like my ear is twitching, but really it's just that ghost from my new house that the cat won't stop staring at while I try to convince myself it's not there so I can fall asleep: maybe it's following me to work. Maybe it's the same trash moving ghost from my old place who just got in the U-Haul and moved with us. New paragraphs are stupid. I just looked for old ghost posts, because I knew there was one about my kitchen garbage bin ending up in my bedroom washroom, but I found more than one. It would seem that I am a big believer in ghosts or so narcissistic as to believe the afterlife consists of following me around to see what I'm doing- at all hours of the day and night. Shut up. Like you haven't been ear flicked by a ghost. I need a sugar shock.

3:18 PM

Foxy, the hot mama of GSDs

11:56 AM

playing with a new app

(So you must suffer.)

Tribeca film festival entry titled, "This is what I think of you, kennel." A TLM short:

4:23 PM

hee

Texts from Hillary

5:58 PM

"This is a dramatization of how much I think I'm missed when I leave my apartment."

Sarah Silverman on WhoSay

2:49 PM

is this what 44 feels like?

Tired: I'm the kind of tired that sleeping in on a Saturday doesn't fix. You know how, when you're younger, you look at old people and think, "man, you should've worked out once in a while" and figure they're just feeble by choice? That wasn't just me, right? You see them all hunched over and wonder what they've been up to, you think of your parents as aliens, you don't see how burgers and fries could possibly be bad for you when you weigh 75 pounds and you certainly have no concept of "tired." I take supplements: glucosamine, MSM, jarro-dophilus, iron (if you've ever read anything here, you'll understand) and calcium. I walk an average of 7 miles per day (more on the weekends), eat relatively healthy (if the spectrum were raw diet-->fast food, I'd lean heavily to the left). I ingest several things that are known to cause problems, but, hey, so, you know, wait, what?

And I'm perfectly sore:

1. Hit my right shin on a metal kennel door (black bruise now)


2. Got taken to the pavement two weeks ago by a dog aggressive dog (fear based) and my right elbow and right hip bone are still somewhat purple


3. My left wrist hasn't been the same since a dog tried to pull my arm from its socket when he saw the most important bunny in the whole world.


4. My left calf took a wrap-around bite from the side and it doesn't look like the puncture mark or line where his teeth dragged across my outer leg are going away.

Let me explain:

1. I am not as smart as the kennel door.


2. The GSD already freaked (barking, yelping, etc.) on a Doberman (in a gated yard), so we were walking in a figure 8 to get her focused on me and were about to start walking away when a moron with an off-leash chi walked towards us from behind a parked car. The woman screamed when the dog leaped and I hit the ground; not based on concern for my well-being, but out of fear that I'd drop the leash. I almost wish I had...


3. Charlie is 75 pounds of pure muscle and I'm always on high alert when walking that boy. I put him in a sit when I bend over to pick up his business, but you can't see everything and I didn't see the bunny until it was the reason I was lifted off my feet. Luckily, I landed on them and had a great grip on the leash, but it did almost detach my arm from my torso and snapped my wrist back in a way that made my tendons protest.


4. Two German Shepherds were left in an abandoned house (foreclosure). They were locked inside and, based on the house and "debris," they were in there for about one month. They figured out how to turn on the faucet and ate everything in sight, edible or not, until they turned on each other. That's when people heard them and called animal control. They were rescued, but have obvious trust issues and act as if they were beaten pretty badly (if you even reach for your own body too fast they flinch and hit the pavement). I am the caretaker for one of the pair and he couldn't be any more adorable or eager to please. However, he does try to get your attention by mouthing at your legs. It's a behavior I correct, but one night I was in the yard with multiple dogs and he got jealous, so he went for my leg (harder than ever before). I doubt he can conceptualize that a girl with no boobs and the butt of a twelve-year-old counts on her legs for more than transportation, so I didn't take it too personally.

I'm so tired, I can't remember the point of this entry, but it does seem that my injuries are well balanced.

3:01 PM

deep. profound. true.

If you haven't felt the kind of love TLM has for his toy, well, you're probably not a stalker with trust issues.




P.S. My neighbor is totally cheating. He can tell me what he likes, but I can smell his unfaithfulness.

1:44 PM

dogsdogsdogsdogs

I've been so busy with rescue stuff, I haven't had a chance to breathe. Seriously, my non-rescue friends haven't seen me in weeks. Anyhow, here's something completely unrelated:



Well, it's not rescue.

2:48 PM

weird to be on this side

My neighbor quit smoking yesterday morning. He gave me all of his lighters (who has 13 lighters, anyhow?) and said he was using the patch. He's been planning this for quite some time, so it wasn't really a surprise. "Whatever I say, don't give me cigarettes."

He made it through his first day, only terrorizing six packs of gum and his television, but then the texts started coming.

Him: I will give you $10 for a cigarette and $5 for a lighter.

Me: Nope

H: Charlie loves you! (Picture of his dog.) So do I!

M: Nope

H: xoxoxoxoxox

M: Nope

H: Super hot neighbor chick!

M: Nope

When I left to walk to the dog this morning, there was a pack of cigarettes in front of my door with a sticky note attached: Found these in my house. Please destroy.

But, just now?

Him: Thanks for taking the cigs. Looks like you left some lights on. Why don't you tell me where your extra keys are and I will go in to check.

Me: Your cigarettes are under TLM's bed.

H: DAMN YOU!

You may enter my home with me and TLM doesn't care, but good luck going in solo. His cigarettes are actually in the trash bin, which is in the back and accessible to everyone but the dog. I wonder if he'll figure it out. You do some pretty sad things when you're on day two.

4:32 PM

never too soon

I suspect the news of my death will be received in the same manner as Whitney or Michael. Jackson. Do I need to say that? Michael Jackson. That dead Michael.

You can leave flowers in front of my home, the kennel or any of my favorite restaurants and/or bars. I wouldn't roll over in my sarcophagus* if there were handmade portraits with brightly colored well wishes doodled above my head. Please feel free to leave anything I've signed, maybe a check to AT&T for October of 2009, alongside a candle of some saint, angel or churchgoer. Whatever you do, please refrain from this:



Considering the location, I understand the surf shop sticker. I even understand that you don't have time to come by and water the little plants every day, so they're bound to dry out. Maybe a child left the stuffed animal, but a stapler? A stapler? Know this: I do not want any office supplies amongst the flowers and hand drawn signs that tell the world how I will be missed. I do not want my tape dispenser in front of my door or by the tree that I wrapped myself around while texting. It has served its purpose and I'm appreciative, but not so much so that I'd want people to think of it when they think of me or because you think I'd be lonely without it. I mean, it's OK if you feel the need to leave office supplies at my door step tomorrow, as they're always handy, but not after I'm dead. Please, not after I'm dead.

*I've already made plans.

4:20 PM

pay attention

What I thought was a Giant Bird of Paradise suddenly began pushing out this bulbous, purplish thing. I guess if I had been interested and paid any attention to the bottom of this plant, I'd have realized it wasn't a Giant Bird. I did not care. It hid the corner where two not so attractive fences meet and that was good enough for me. I was close to cutting off the branch leading to this craziness, as it stuck out at least three feet from the rest of the plant and was hitting me in the head as I took care of some basic gardening. It's pointy and sticky and that's not something you want poking you in the head (not that there's anything wrong with that). I sent a picture to a friend and asked her to diagnose the stickiness, but she couldn't tell if it was a flower, seed pod or bananas.

Bananas?

Yes, bananas. There are straight up bananas in my backyard. I know what they look like and can pick them out of a lineup, but I'd never noticed what they looked like before they looked like bananas. Bananas. I have bananas! I actually planted a dwarf banana out front, but was told it would take a while to produce fruit and forgot all about it, as it's barren. I now have bananas that are 100% urine free, as they are on the other side of the X Pen. (I have to cut off the back end of the yard, otherwise TLM and the Cavalier King Charles next door talk all day. Yes, by talk, I mean bark at each other. If TLM can't get close to the fence, he forgets there's a yappy dog over there and the villagers are happy.)

If you see me selling *organic* bananas by a freeway off ramp, please stop and say hello.

P.S. They make great Valentine's Day gifts.

3:34 PM

bears!

4:54 PM

washroom

Someone used my go-to stall and did horrible things in there. Awful, spiteful things.

4:55 PM

stop it, tom cruise!

It was a fluke. I wandered into a vacant, public love den, its occupants completely unaware of my existence. I presumed them to be children, intoxicated by the colorful protective gear and enchanted by the sugar. I walked into this area around eight in the morning; surrounded by screaming children on their way to work camps or factories, parents dragging them by one limp arm so that they might get to their cardio barre class in time to flirt with Brad before Elizabeth appropriated all of his free time. Fucking Elizabeth.

But then, yesterday evening, I saw this:



I was about five miles from the original condom spotting and there were no Twinkie wrappers or loose Skittles. Then it hit me... I was being followed.

I am being stalked by a masturbatory germaphobe who relishes primary colors. That morning in the park? I'm usually there by seven, but was running late. There's a 7-11 a few blocks away and, with the constant loss of fluids, he might have been getting light headed and needed the sugar rush to keep him going. I'm rarely late for my evening walks, which explains the absence of excess packaging.

Does he hide, naked in the shrubbery, or does he protect his manhood underneath his breathable clothing, passing as a health conscience chi walker? Do I say hello as we cross paths or does he never get close enough to appreciate the fact that my poop bags are scented, daring you to find the baby covered in powder somewhere on my person?

If I weren't so creeped out, I might appreciate his active imagination.

4:12 PM

need it/hate it

I've been using Facebook to network animals and rescues, which works amazingly well. That said, I truly hate Facebook. Why do people need to "check in" at Ikea? Why do I need to know you're eating at Chili's? Maybe it's helpful to know that others shouldn't bother taking you anywhere nice, but do you think broadcasting your horrible taste is newsworthy? Do you picture us breathless, waiting to see where you land next? Will you be checking into a doctor's office to ask about those bumps? (They're not ingrown hairs.) I can't wait! It seems even more narcissistic than Twitter to check in while you're shopping at Target, getting your hair cut, picking up the kids from soccer or getting your lady parts waxed. This website may be related, in some twisted way, to the drive behind all that, but it's hardly me telling you I'm at Walmart. (I was there yesterday to pick up a prescription. Waited in line for 4 minutes. Made small talk to the cashier. She was dull. Picked up lotion on my way out.)

I guess it's apparent that this is week 3 of my never ending period. I hate everything, except for sugar-free Red Bull. And cheese. And egg whites. Not together.

8:54 AM

some like the world to know just how wonderful they are

They want you to know how many orphans they've subscribed to O Magazine or how many octogenarians they've helped off skateboards. Me? I want to share the dirty truth. I want you to know my ugly side. I want you to be able to understand when, one day, a female friend tells you that she's been having a period for three weeks. I want you to know that, today, I beat up my printer.

Yes, I punched my HP LaserJet for a good fifteen seconds and it felt like heaven. That piece of sh&t has been begging for it for months, so today I caved and thoroughly whooped its ass.

F*ck you, you huge piece of prehistoric crap.

3:01 PM

wow

Nerve. This takes real nerve.
And ignorance, but those two traits usually come hand in hand.

This is a great response to the above article.

2:44 PM

spooky

Things in Pakistan can be scary (and I'm not talking about your run of the mill scary).

1:59 PM

the downside of tanning easily

5:52 PM

new daily must watch - repeat as needed

Mikala Bierma

4:56 PM

truth in advertising

I was thinking about getting one of these signs for my back gate:



TLM is so stealth, it'll look clear, but he'll be on your ass in a second and then it's too late. Not that I hate the thought of that, as you shouldn't be in my backyard anyhow, but I'm not trying to kill people and a warning only seems fair.

Inside, it's a different story:



No respect for the 9-5.

3:45 PM

op

I've always had allergies and, eventually, asthma due to allergies. The asthma isn't an issue, as it only pops up every few years when my allergies are on a tear. A friend of mine has been telling me to oil pull for years, but she's not a born sales person.

"All you do is put some oil in your mouth and swish it around for 15-20 minutes. If you've ever given a blow job, you can oil pull. And the oil you don't even swallow."

I never tried it, as fun as that may sound, until she brought it up again recently. About 4 weeks ago, I thought I had bronchitis. It wasn't that, but the cough was terrible and breathing was a chore. It started to go away and then came back with a vengeance, so they put me on steroids and gave me some crazy steroid inhaler. My lungs got all aggro on the roids and I was feeling 90% the next day. I looked up oil pulling on the internet and, as not one site compared it to swishing a load around in your mouth for 20 minutes, decided to try it for myself.

I'm using the (organic) sunflower oil, only because it was what I saw first. I take a tablespoon into my mouth before getting into the shower, swish it around for a while, dry off, still swishing, until I hit 15 minutes. You can feel the oil thinning as time goes by, but the first time you spit it out (I highly suggest using the toilet for this, as it is oil) it's a little shocking. Not only is it as thin as water, it's snow white. It's whiter than the toilet bowl even the day after the cleaning lady left (if I had a cleaning lady, but I'm trying to impart that my toilet is not dirty, the oil is just that white).

I find it to be amazing.

I've been doing it for a little over 2 weeks now and can already feel a difference. The winds kicked up last week and my allergies didn't react. Today, it's windy and dry as a bone, but still nothing. My teeth actually feel cleaner and a little whiter, which seems weird to say after swishing oil. I remember this big whore in college and her teeth were super white. Anyhow, I've read the reviews online in which people say it helps nothing and changes none of their problems, but I couldn't find any unhealthy drawbacks, so I went ahead and tried it. For me, it's been great. It's really impacted my allergies in such a short time, I can't wait to see how much better this gets. And even if it doesn't get any better than this, this is better than where I started.

Oh, another reason to try it? Apparently, it's good for your vagina and your ovaries and the tubes and other such things you hide up in there.

1:15 PM

cross fit?

9:38 AM

things you find in parks while walking dogs

TLM has a favorite spot in which to handle his "business." It would seem that two people, rolling around in the leftover bits attached to the urine soaked grass, enjoyed a romantic evening at the base of his favorite tree (there must have been scented candles or they would've moved).

Was the theme bright colors or fourteen-year-olds?

(The condom was red, but I've spared you that picture.)

2:11 PM

keeping the cat alive

Three-Legged Monster's trainer told me to install a security gate- like one you'd see on someone's back door (if they lived in a really nice neighborhood)- in my hallway. The idea is that TLM should get used to seeing the cat, but should not be able to kill him and, eventually, we were going to start muzzle training with them in the same room. Desensitizing the dog over time was the plan, only he moved at a much quicker pace than expected. Well, quicker than my desire to install an ugly security door within my home. He doesn't care about the cat's noises anymore, but will still lunge at him when he's peeping through the window. If I have to keep him out of the windows facing the yard, what's the point of some crazy ass steel door making my house purposefully ugly? I bought this, instead:



With the extension, it's about four feet tall. Yes, the cat can jump it, but it's more for when I'm not home and the cat is safely behind a closed door. When I'm home, he just lays around on my bed and acts exhausted from all of the cat-like duties he's accomplished while I've been gone (doing nothing). When the pets are alone at home, the gate allows the dog to have the living room and access to the yard, without being able to reach the door behind which the cat is achieving all of his greatness. Why would I need a gate to protect a closed door?



First things first: do you see all of the parts & pieces? There are at least ten. I was amazed that I installed this (mounted) gate all by myself in about thirty minutes with no extra holes in the wall or mysterious extra pieces. I even used a drill! (Next, I'll be voting & getting equal pay for equal work. OK, maybe just voting.)

Take a look at the bottom of the door:



The cat doesn't like to be left out of conversations, even if they're only between one person and French instructions. He is forever throwing his paws out in some weird attempt to get your attention and I didn't want that to work on TLM. A dog with three legs is one thing, but a cat with only two back legs is another. This gate is great because of the locking mechanism- it's not a push through gate like most (what's the point of a mounted gate if the dog only has to push it open?) and required actual thumbs to lift and unhook.

The cat lives to see another day...

4:56 PM

do you mind if it curves to the left?

5:44 PM