Author: The Jody

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

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

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!

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.

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.