Fatlonious

Obviously our dog, Thelonious, thinks our leather couch stole some old lady's purse, or held up a convenience store, or did some insider trading, because he took a nice, big bite out of it.

And lately he's been carelessly leaving his iPod Nano just lying around the house like someone who doesn't care much about nice things. For the record, that's nice things and a healthy doggy figure to which Thelonious is giving the middle pad.

Boot Debt

I don't know if I'm the only one who rolls this way, but I tend to over-buy things (that is, buy many of the same thing, but in different sizes and colors -- kind of like how Michael Jackson did with noses), then sort of use them, test them, feel and love them for a few days, then take most of them back and keep the one that ended up fitting my very particular bill. This week's culprit: Sorel's super awesome lace-up Cate the Great snow boot with super awesome oversized stitching details and super awesome over-the-boot Nanook-style leather gaiters. They're bad ass and, according my numerous below-zero, mucho snow tests over the last couple of days, they are not only good-looking, but they function well as winter boots.

I highly recommend you own at least one pair of these boots. They will make you happy like this lady:

But beware -- when you take back the pair you bought from REI, you'll feel really bad about wasting the partially-deaf shoe-fetcher's time. Thank goodness this year I made a resolution to feel less bad about being an asshole.

What Are Dogs And Cats Doing When They're Not Being Cheap Chinese Food?

[Fuzz learns just how much those AIG executives got.]

[Shadow never asked to be adopted by Madonna.]

[Bella wonders if you've heard of the Mormon church.]

[Chloe wonders if the Girl Scout at her door has any kitty-flavored Thin Mints.]

[Chico wants to know when he and Paris will drink margaritas out of the toilet again.]

[Matilda proves she's ready for the job market; here she licks an invisible envelope.]

[Sam wonders how long it will take him to chew up his family's couch.]

[Rex does his best impression of Octomom, Nadya Suleman.]

[A-Rod's Whippet, Arnold, flexes for more steroids.]

A Drawing By Levi

Goddam Crabby Old Ladies

Lizzie the Australian Sheepdog is a strange dog because she pees once every walk. She picks a spot and takes care of things, leaving the rest of her time outside for investigation. So we're having a lovely walk, and Lizzie's found a particularly ripe spot to sniff. She's sniffing and sniffing and something knocks on the window of the house we're in front of. I already know what's going down and choose to ignore it---if that old coot wants me to get out of her yard, she's at least gonna have to hike up her Depends and make it to the door. Which she does. 

You wanna get your dog outta my yard? 

Sure, I say. But why does it bother you?

You wanna get your dog outta my yard? she says again. I know that old, bitchy women don't like questions, they just want you to get the hell out of their wrinkly little lives so they can get back to that handsome devil, Matlock. 

I ask again: Why does it bother you?

Because it bothers me, she hollers, already retreating like a mealy apple through the two doors it took her fifteen seconds to open.

Try it some time---ask a grumpy old broad a question. She'll forget where she is and instinctively shoo you and anyone near her out of her grump radius. She might recover, might snap out of it. But then, because of the thought of intruders, she'll have to excuse herself because she's shit her too-short polyester pants. That are lavender. And weird-smelling.

Stock-O-Lantern

This pumpkin shows you what the stock market would look like if it had eyes.

Halloween is scary.

Squirrel-Feed '08 update + John McCain Ate Your Baby's Economy

At last, it is verified: squirrels enjoy fluorescent cheese! Squirrel gladly accepted four Cheetos from me and, afterward, ran away on happy little bright orange paws. 

Turns out John McCain, too, has a bit of toxic dust on his fingers. Not like it was ever a question, but this brief documentary tells a bit of how John McCain, his very own self, has earned a nipple twist or two once he arrives in the ring of hell catering to the those who own ten or more houses:

http://www.keatingeconomics.com

Speaking of John McCain's houses, one of them, a twelve million dollar shed in Arizona, is up for sale. Fourteen thousand square feet: 13 bedrooms, 15 bathrooms, swimming pool. Ample garage space to store outdated subpoenas. Newly-remodeled walk-in pill closet. Tons of wall space for oversized photos of children you don't spend time with. Property 100% wolf-free. Buyer receives vice presidential training crate at no cost.  

P.S.

http://punditkitchen.com/?s=shiny