The Big DumpTruck

Throwing Little Thought Pebbles at Your Windshield Since 1996

Month: August, 2005

Hello From Vermont!

We’re here in St. Albans with ZERO ZERO ZERO phone/internet connectivity
on my SideKick. Luckily there’s a computer in the hotel lobby that I can
use to check my mail and send some out.

You may not hear back from me until tomorrow. Try to have a good day
without me.

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Don’t Eat It!

It’s Thursday, so you know what that means!

No?

I was hoping you knew.

Okay, instead of the usual tripe, I’ve go a link to someone else’s
tripe. Or more specifically someone else’s pickled pork rinds and other
things one shouldn’t eat.

It’s very very funny stuff, but the photos of the food items may cause
you to question humanity.

http://www.thesneeze.com/mt-archives/cat_steve_dont_eat_it.php

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Reunited and It Feel So Good

Going to a family reunion this weekend. This is for my mother’s father’s side of the family. I’m trying to decide if I should bring my digital camera or my video camera. I’m leaning toward video, just because that might be more fun for her to look at later, after I burn it down to a DVD. Do you think perfect strangers who happen to share a common relative n generations ago will be happy to be on camera? I’m not sure.

The reunion is in upper upper upper Vermont. That’s a lot of Vermont to drive through.

Maybe we’ll try to find

  • Sandra Bullock’s sister’s bakery.
  • Those lesbians with the maple syrup farm from the Postcards from Buster PBS show.
  • Our way back home on Sunday
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Corn Nibblet Day

Coupla random thoughts. You know, corn nibblets. (Nibblets? Where is my dictionary…)

  • Weather.com’s 15 day forecast, while probably not anything close to accurate, is now officially giving weather predictions for the week we’re on vacation. Right now it looks sunny and in the mid-to-high 70s. As long as it isn’t going to be a whole lot cooler down on the Cape, I’m good with that.
  • Still job hunting. Not loving that at all.
  • For some reason, my current “editing” pen at work is a hot pink Pilot Razor Point, extra fine. It adds a little pizzazz to my day. And you know, right about now, I’m taking all the pizzazz I can get.
  • I don’t know how to spell pizzazz. Neither does the blogger spell checker. I did not mean pixies, thanks.
  • I found some shoes I want to order from Amazon.com, but I don’t know if I should. What if they don’t fit, or look uglier on my feet than they do in the picture?
  • Today’s breakfast – a raspberry white chocolate chip scone. Now I can face the day!
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Dog Performance Art

And no, I’m not talking about the fact that he pooped on Junior’s backpack this morning.

See, when it’s my turn to take him outside, I recreate scenes from various movies and television shows. I call the dog Scooby, Benji, Lassie, or Toto, depending on what I’m recreating. And sometimes when he’s sniffing I’ll ask if he’s found the scent of the murderer. You know, cause he’s obviously part bloodhound. He may be just a little too big to carry in a basket.

Hey, it amuses me.

And if we *happen* to save a little boy trapped in a well, won’t you be all “oh, sorry we mocked you and Lassie there.” Uh huh.

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The Dog Has a Middle Name

When I’m yelling at the dog to get out from underneath the desk for the 100th time, I decided he needs a middle name. Because you cannot yell at someone without using their middle name. So I decided he should have the same middle name as Mr. Dump. I tried Junior’s middle name but it didn’t work for me. So now he’s got a middle name and it just works better when I’m yelling “stop eating the blinds!” or “If you don’t hurry up and poop I’m going to scream!”

Mr. Dump brought Phantom to Junior’s summer camp and some woman started yelling “I just love a little rat dog!”

Uh, thanks? How is one supposed to respond to that? “He’s not a rat dog” is probably a good start. (For the record, we always call chihuahuas rat dogs because of the Mexican Rat Dog urban legend. But Phantom is a cockapoo, not a rat dog. )

This has been a public service announcement.

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Leave It To Me

I may be the only person I know who can get injured by oatmeal.

I’m just saying.

(Okay, it was hot, cooked oatmeal, and it landed on my finger and gave me an ouchie. But still, it counts as an oatmeal injury.)

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And Now She Writes the Next Little House on the Prairie Book

It’s been far too long between Little House on the Prairie books. I know that they’re probably labor-intensive, what with the small words and the big print. Maybe it’s the illustrations (which really, are some of the best ever done for chapter books – far far better than the Harry Potter illustrations). But because Laura Ingalls Wilder is taking so very very long to get the next book to her publisher, I’m going to step up to the plate and write my own, just like I am volunteering for HP7.

Let’s see. Manly and Laura are married, and their daughter Rose was born. Their house burned down but they saved the “Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread” plate. Okay, got it.

Okay, the book starts out with Laura announcing to Manly that she’s tired of being a stay-at-home mom, she wants to move to New York and try her hand as a Rockette. She tells him that there’s no future in farming, and that if he comes with her, he might be able to find work as a male model in the clothing district. He agrees to come with her for one year – if she doesn’t have any success, she agrees to move back to the dirt farm and feed the chickens until she dies. Hilarity ensues.

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Jody Writes the Next Harry Potter Book

In case JK Rowling has a hand cramp, I’m willing to take a stab. I’ve made some notes.

The next book is going to be wildly different. Nobody goes back to Hogwarts. Instead they buy a van, paint it and call it the Magic Machine…Harry Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, Hagrid and their dog, Scooby Doo.

Sure, there’s an extra human. Ron can be Don Knotts.

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No Green Olives

How am I supposed to enjoy my salad here at my contrct job when they don’t have green olives available to me?

I am crushed.

Other than that, I’m busy. But no green olives, damnit!

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