Tiger is a lion cheetah!
Sunday, February 21, 2010
I have nothing to say, and by god, I'm going to say it! No, don't try to talk me out of it. My mind's made up. I've been thinking about it all day and I can't hold back any longer. I know what you're thinking...she won't do it...she doesn't have the guts. Well, I've got news for you, Jack! "Guts " is my middle name. I've been intimidated by lack of ideas for too long! I've hung back, waiting for inspiration, while millions of other bloggers post every day, whether they have anything to say or not. I must confess, however, that I owe a good bit of my resolve to the fact that there are various loathsome household chores jostling for my attention, and I must demonstrate to them and to myself that tonight, writing about "Nothing" is far more important than washing dishes or ironing a long-neglected pile of shirts and trousers. And I have until April 15 to do those depressing taxes, thank you very much for reminding me, you dirty rat!
Okay, are you ready? All right, go to the bathroom and get a drink first. I'll wait...
That was quick. Okay, here goes nothing!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Monday, February 08, 2010
It's been a long time since I had a dog, but not nearly long enough! The crazed canine that put an end to my dog-owning desires (after 13 l-o-n-g years) was "Benny," a male wirehair fox terrier. We got him when he was an adorable puppy, all white, orange and grey fluff, with big brown eyes and an eager, playful personality. He remained a lovable, friendly, entertaining dog while he was in the house, with my husband, kids and I, but as soon as he would step out the door, there'd be trouble. (I should mention that this was back in the 'seventies, in a town where there were no leash laws.) Benny lived for two activities: fighting and fucking. He was the cave man of dogs. Any male dog who ventured near our yard was fair game. In spite of Benny's small stature, he was so ferocious and had such long, sharp teeth, that he usually came out on top. It was horrifying to see and very difficult to break up those fights. I won't go into the grisly details here.-
Female dogs, on the other hand, were treated with enthusiastic affection. One particularly entertaining event stands out in my memory. At the time, we were living in a nice, Mormon neighborhood in Salt Lake City. Our neighbors across the street had several kids, the oldest of whom was a 7 year-old girl (Kathy). They also had a girl dog (Suzy). One afternoon, kids and dogs were outside playing. I heard a knock on the door. It was Kathy, looking agitated.-
"Mrs. M! Your dog is stuck in our dog!"-
I looked outside, and there was Benny, "stuck" in Suzy. Apparently, the fun part was over, but deflation had not happened yet. The funniest part was that they were facing away from each other, looking quite uncomfortable, even embarrassed, if you will forgive me for anthropomorphizing.
I told Kathy not to worry, that her doggy wasn't hurting, and they would get "unstuck" soon, which they did, of course. But a few months later, Kathy's family was "stuck" with a litter of fluffy puppies.-
Thinking back on those times, I am amazed that no one ever shot our dog, or called the police, or at least demanded that we lock the horny little S.O.B. up. And I am more than a little ashamed of how irresponsible we were to have let him run free. In my defense, I will say that I begged my (now ex) husband to have Benny neutered, but he refused. Actually, I would have been happy to neuter both Benny and my husband, but I didn't have the balls.
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Why does winter have to be so damn cold? Why the hell did I ever leave California? I hate winter! I hate snow! I really, really hate ICE! (Except in small cubes, in my whiskey) And don't get me started on ice-cold WIND! Why did the goddamn groundhog have to see his goddamn shadow? Why can't I move to Florida? IT'S NOT FAIR!