Mass Exodus & Questionable "Beans"

So I went from 101 to 98 followers... it's like rats leaving a sinking ship.

How come I didn't realize the ship was sinking? Oh wait, it's not.
Phew.


I suppose I HAVE been a little pre-occupied and haven't been making the blog rounds, but you get to hear all about that later on.

I have to ask the question, though...

Nescafe Instant Decaf Coffee - For only the finest  wisest  living  person with no taste buds  most discerning  cheapest/laziest "coffee" drinker...

Tell me, my dear friends, does this not look like sperm-like?

Wait a second... instant WHAT?

I always get girlish-ly excited when I am opening a new package of ANYTHING. I used to be PUMPED as a kid to be the first one to peel back that fabulous foil on the peanut butter jar, so I could swipe the single peanut sitting on top. I even used to ask for that yucky brand, even though I like Kraft better (because the cheap bastards at Kraft didn't include a peanut. How hard is it to add a single peanut, I ask? Seriously?)

So I open this horrendous instant coffee to be greeted by little spermy-looking coffee beans. I don't want to know that their "natural decaffeination process" entails...

Happy Friday, Y'all.

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Obligatory Here's A Post, Post

My ridiculous Blogger ego (separate from that of my real life) likes to think that you crazy people who read this shit want to see a post every few days.

It's either keep you happy, or have you abandon me, leaving me with 18 dogs, a twitch, various mood disorders and the title "crazy alone dog lady down the street".

So.... here it is. An obligatory mid-week post.

I've felt so weak and so tired the past few days, it's weird.

No really, I feel awesome, I'm just trying out my Jack Nicholson impression.

My uterus is not being occupied, if you were concerned, but it is currently punching me internally and cramping me to fetal-position-proportions.

You are welcome for the TMI.

Caaaamon, put 'em uuup, put 'em uuuuuup... (Image source, I think? Do you really care, anyway?)

I've been asked to do a couple guest posts, and wouldn't you damn well believe that my mind has subsequently, efficiently and hopelessly gone blanker than it already was.

So that's kind of awesome, to fail before you even begin.

See, this is why I post dog poop charts and stuff.

Maybe my iron is low. Thing is, I am too tired to worry about making ANOTHER appointment to have more tests done. I think I have reached my lifetime quota on that one. Seriously.

Okay, that is a decent sized post, and you got two pictures. Now I am going to try to eat. Try being the operative word.

If I puke it all back up, I'll be sure to blog about it and let you know.

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Oscar The Grouch Gets A Poop Slushy

So the weather here was quite "balmy" compared to the -19°C weather we've been having lately, with the wind chill.

Most of you know that we got a new puppy two weeks ago. What most of you probably don't know is that said puppy poops. A lot. I mean, a lot a lot, and only if I go outside with her and encourage her.

I can only imagine what I sound like to the neighbours.

Me:     "C'mon hon, hurry up, pee pee poo poo. Hurry up."  (I am all shrill and excited and super-happy sounding)

Puppy:   *tilts head.... runs back to back door*

Me:      "C'mon puppy, hurry up, pee pee poo poo. Hurry up. Go pee pee."

Puppy:   *drops and gives me a 3-second pee*

Me:    "Yay! Good pee pee, good girl! Good pee pee! okay, hurry up, go poo poo."

Puppy:  *runs around yard, eats bunny poop, smears it on my fingernails as I try to sweep her mouth, dives under the patio table*

Wash, rinse, repeat.

You get the idea.

Sort of. With less snow in your eyeballs/eardrums/nostrils and chills up your spine.

So, after two weeks of laziness and general disdain of all temperatures cold and colder, I realized the multiple poops (that were followed with loud cheers by me and congratulatory messages to the puppy) were starting to really pile up.

So out I went today to start to shovel them into a bag for garbage night. Let's just say at the best of times, this stuff isn't solid, as we changed her food. So add in snow melt, paw squishes, and other lovely-dog-poop-related joy, and you've got yourself a shifty substance.

IF YOU HAVE RECENTLY EATEN, OR ARE ABOUT TO EAT, YOU MAY WANT TO SHUT THIS BROWSER WINDOW RIGHT ABOUT NOW....






SERIOUSLY






YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED










THIS ISN'T GOING TO END WELL.






ALRIGHT, BUDDY, I WARNED YOU.




I was dealing with something between 10 and 60 on the scale below. Moundfuls and moundfuls (no, not mouthfuls).

This is why I don't like tootsie rolls.  (Image source here, 'cause someone else blogs about crap, too.)

So... yeah. The garbage man tomorrow is going to have a melty-slushy-soupy mess. And the backyard doesn't look much better.

Oscar's shit-eating grin is about to become a whole lot more appropriate....

Why do I blog about dog poop so much? Who knows?

How long until someone finds my blog because they will inexplicably search google with that exact phrase? I give it two weeks.

Who has to deal with the aftermath tomorrow morning? The garbage collection man.


Poor garbage collection man.


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