It's Been Awhile....

I realize my lack of posting probably indicates that I have no life, or I have such a life that I don't post every time I take a shit...which would be more than you, dear readers, would care to hear about I'm sure. I have been busy. Yes, my job does require some work, a lot of travel and listening to whiny brats tell me why their credit is shot. So where did we leave off? I believe I was about to go on vacay away from this stressful thing I call life. Went away we did, the girls and I to a mountain escape about 1o minutes away from home. Not quite the cozy cottage we thought it would be, as it came with the feeling someone got booted out for the weekend and forgot to vacuum up after their cat. The crisp mountain air made for a particularly dry throat in my mind and I drank a whole bottle of rum (a 40 i believe they are nicknamed) and a bottle of diet pepsi. This led to some antics that are fondly remembered on Nah's camera and will never be posted on this site as I don't want to lose any respect you may have had for me. My war cry was "I have a stressful job" and that was the cue to drink the troubles away. I vaguely remember a pinata, a pregnancy test and being awoken to strategically placed chocolate covered strawberries and someone trying to takeaway my blown up condom I was cuddling.
That was vacation. So now the filler. Dogs have eaten and destroyed house many times over, most notably eating 2 litres of molasses on my beautiful white and blue carpet. You'd think I 'd have a funny diarrhea story to follow but they both seem to have digested it fairly well. We completed a renovation in our front porch, which is now the dog room when we go away. I got the couch of my dreams and now it smells like wet beagles. We found out a neighbour who owns a patch of land in front of us is looking to develop and sell and I am doing everything in my power to stop it. Buying it would probably be easiest. My car is dying a fast death. The trunk no longer closes, the thing eats a quart of oil every 200 km, the tires are bald and studded and illegal this time of year, the bearing that hold that stinking wheel on is about to come off if I go over 100km, and it just plain smells bad now and is so filled with junk I am actually embarrassed to drive it.
In conclusion, car sucks, work is busy, Donald has a new job and is home all the time, dogs are assholes, and it's vacation next week!!!!!

Gimme A Break

We finally had a break in our crappy winter weather this week. Tuesday was like a dream, plus 10 and sunny and I didn't even put my winter coat on. The snow is near all gone now and I can see grass again, green grass. I can also see the remains of many a dogs breakfast and dinner for that matter. Our lawn is a virtual carpet of dog shit and the rubber boot dance is more important than ever. I may audition for a indian dance troupe. But more importantly let's discuss where this poop comes from. Two dogs, beagles to be exact, one whose movements are considerably larger than the other and much more frequent...he gets that from his mom. I have made the decision to never have children and instead have too many animals and I am starting to ask myself who has it worse. I spend about one hour a day dealing with crap. Cat and Dog. I pick up about 4 to 5 hairballs a day. I wipe down floors of barfed up milk, christmas ornaments, regurgitated plastic and stomach bile every step I take. I feel like an unpaid nurse. I'm tired. I'm really not getting any satisfaction of knowing that when my animals turn 18 they will move out and clean up their own messes or look after me in my old age. Mind you I don't have to deal with unplanned pregnancies anymore...we nipped that in the butt...bud...how does that saying go...or teens yelling they hate me and running away with their biker boyfriends or bringing illegals into my house. I guess the argument is 50/50. I just need a break. I haven't been alone in my home for 5 minutes for ages. I am accompanied to the bathroom, kitchen, living room, bedroom, hallway, stairwell and stared after when I go outside. I can't wait to booze it up this weekend and forgot about my fur family, does that make me a horrible mother? It has to be better than smothering their furry little faces while they sleep.

the land of oz...

I have had a long and wonderful holiday. Some of you may think that's because Donald and I spent our first Christmas at home in 13 years, or that we have a new dog and got to spend lots of time with him, or the fact that I had almost 14 days off in row and got paid for it!! But no. I spent my holidays curled up in bed looking at Christopher Meloni's schlong. Yup, I have seen more penises these past few weeks than I'm sure to ever see in my entire life. I have this silly grin on my face and I remember each vivid shower scene and well any other attempts he made on the men of OZ. I highly recommend this show. I watched all 6 seasons much to Donald's displeasure and he now feels that he doesn't quite measure up. Well, it's Christopher Meloni for christs sake, it's a movie star penis. I wrote him a note (Chris) and told him how much I liked his peters work and i prayed it wasn't a stunt double and that I have a paying gig here in Tupperville if he ever needs some extra cash.

Donald doesn't know about this email
Please don't tell on me

I got the boot

With the rash thinking that is my life I decided to follow Donald to the city in search of the elusive soy nog. This is all Julie's fault. A little prestory...After a long day spent in the city with my mother and a longer drive home with her en route to my great aunts funeral visitation, we finally stop for international sushi night at Mark and Julie's house. Sensing my need for a drink I am coddled with a soynog and rum which sounds gross and healthy and vegan but is really yummy. I know my eggnog. I know this is some good shit, and its available from the superstore. Fast forward 3 weeks and no eggnog has been sited at any stupidstore. But alas Julie come through yet again on Wii and regular sushi night and hands off this imitation, nutty, dry mouthed, diarrhea inducing nog. Thanks girl. I know it wasn' your fault, but you probably had a giggle of the thought of me dying a little on the can.

Back to the present day. I load up the dogs...yes we got another beagle...this one prefers to eat cat shit and dead mice, and go visit my mommy. I drag her along to Halifax where the quest begins at planet organic, home of the hippie with loads of money. nope they are all out but should be getting some tomorrow. Please someone tell me how that helps now? I hate that answer. From the cashier I do get her homemade version which I will try but I want the boxed nog for simplicities sake. We travel onward where mother accosts the poor asian fellow at the chinese grocery in her attempt to make stir fried pork form a package which she can't read the directions. She says to him "you can read chinese can't you"...Pop back into the car for a whirl down quinpool road in search of heartwood bakery for some lunch. There is nowhere to park. I attempt to pull in front of sign that says no parking but mother is screaming we will get towed. I opt instead for the lot that says if you park here and don't shop at our high end rug shop will will take your car away. We get out and look at the front of the shop...too rich for my blood ( plus the motherinlaw is already getting me a rug from sears)and continue on to our lunch. At heartwood we both have the rice bowls with vermicelli instead, and eat our tofu and kale with gusto. It was okay, i could make it better and it certainly wouldn't be $30 bucks...no dessert no drinks just water folks!! We mosey on back to the car and mom is lamenting her lack of smokes when we notice a big sign on my drivers side window. a quick look down and here is something attached to my wheel. It's yellow and looks dangerous. They have arrested my car and I can bail her out for $78.00 bucks plus tax. Merry @#$%&* Christmas. Mother says "I told you so", I am returning her gift.

A weird thing happened at Midnight Madness...

So Midnight Madness. In a town of 1000. Crazy. There were about 30 people on the streets and it was raining like a son of a gun. The posse and I went to our friends fabulous pet supply shop to have a chat and purchase some xmas duds for the animals. Her resident store dog needed a pee and I volunteered to take her out. Ooops, forgot about the rain. She splashed in puddles and ate a muddy stick with that joie de vivre only a puppy can have in terrible weather conditions. We hustle back to the store after our cacapeepeepoopoo and muck face decides to jump all over the customers. I rear her in to have the lady she is so desperately trying to mount says its okay and leans down for a kiss. An open mouthed kiss. I see her tongue dart into the dogs mouth as she exclaims..
"Oooh your tongue is so soft in my mouth"
EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Why do these things happen to me.








ps - cut that kiss short and dragged her back to the safety of her momma, i think the dog is okay


pps - i'm not

Henry ate my @#$%* sandwich

So I started a new job 3 weeks ago. I worked yesterday for the first time. Woke up at 5am and proceeded to go over the power point presentation to the cats...they weren't interested. I guess owning your own business isn't something they aspire to do unlike barfing on my carpet, the only one in the house. I digress. So i eat a small brekkie consisting of a bagel and jam. Last time I spoke in front of a crowd for a french speaking contest they saw the big mac I had for lunch. I sit and wait until 10:30 when I have to leave. I look at the cats, they ignore me.
Let's just skip the part where I do the presentation and say nothing ever goes right the first time you have to speak in front of 300 bored and sweaty smelling teenagers. I then proceed to the library to hopefully await the teens I have inspired. Egads!!! Seven actually show up and we talk for an hour and then they are whisked away by a magical bell that signifies feeding hour and I take off to home to make my own lunch. I am hungry. Me hungry. I can see the sandwich of my dreams in my minds eye.
There is one piece of veggie bologna left, some cherry tomatoes and sprouts, a hunk of nippy cheddar and soft white fluffy bread...mmmm. I make my sandwich and place it on the table just as the phone rings. Said conversation over (can't even remember who it is) turn back to the table. Where is it? Where is my @#$%& sandwich. I flip around and stare at the counter where I have put everything away...or did I? Did I even make the sandwich? That's when I hear the satisfying smlack smhlurp of Henry the Beagle's lips. I lean towards him to smell his breath and he indulges me in one of his most attractive burps...bologna I can smell it.
The dog and I aren't speaking yet, in fact he looks guilty but that's part of the breed. He feels no remorse. I don't know if we can go back to where we were.
I want that sandwich back.