Sunday, February 15, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
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.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Squirrel-Feed '08 update + John McCain Ate Your Baby's Economy
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:
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 Ample garage space to store outdated subpoenas.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.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Squirrel-Feed '08 update + Cindy McCain Ate Your Baby
Squirrel continues to accept edible offerings. Today, Mom's lasagna:
Speaking of squirrels, there's an intriguing article in the New Yorker about Cindy "Scratch-Your-Eyes-Out" McCain.
In it you'll learn fun facts such as...
-Cindy McCain has, in the past, been addicted to the apparently transfiguring highs of imbibing fingernail polish (her favorite shade: Shareholder Red).
-Bought a really fantastic outfit right before adopting daughter, Bridget.
-Cindy McCain, at the age of nineteen, aborted her soul.
-Cindy McCain met and fell in love with John McCain while selling Girl Scout cookies in front of a supermarket.
-Cindy McCain is afraid of heights and of black people.
-Cindy McCain has an orgasm at the sound of the word, "prenuptial."
Friday, September 5, 2008
This Just In: War Hero John McCain Tortures Nation
I tried to watch John McCain's acceptance speech last night. And I did---I did watch some of it. But I must have faltered just as he was getting to the twenty fifth minute of explaining how he's a war veteran because I found myself waking to my own warm slobber tugging on my lip, and there, up on the screen, was an image of an at least three hundred and fifty pound Republican wearing a stuffed elephant on her head and waving an American flag from her rolling fat chair. That was interesting, no doubt. But then the camera flashed back to the man of the hour, who clearly had forgotten to iron his face before the big show, but who'd certainly remembered to remind everyone of his days in a Vietnamese prison. Even after my dream of Julie Andrews spinning in song across that lush expanse of grass in McCain's background, dude was virtually taking his jacket off, unbuttoning his shirt to prove his days of torture. Besides the fact that he's a war hero, McCanDo promised to deliver the nation from the damage done to it by the very party he represents. An intriguing idea. Kind of like raping a woman, getting her pregnant, then telling her it's okay, she can just have an abortion, only she can't have an abortion because you forbid it. Here, therefore, is a t-shirt/bumper sticker idea: Abort John McCain in the Last Trimester. Wink-wink.


Sunday, August 17, 2008
Resident Squirrel Update
I try to keep Squirrel's diet limited to stale bread and mixed nuts, but I've recently broadened that menu with Craisins, corn, and pie crust. [Note: he will not eat Craisins.] The other day Levi and I witnessed him ravaging a Burger King fry bag. We found it sad that he didn't notice how the lone fry [remember that old Western?] inside could be easily accessed via the large opening at the top of the pouch. But I've heard this through-the-bag technique is also how Laura Ingraham consumes her fast food, so maybe it's just that Squirrel's a Conservative.
Below is Squirrel, who joined us on the porch the other night during dinner time, sans side dish. Not only do these photograph exhibit the redundancy of corn holders, but I believe there is also evidence in them of Squirrel's allegiance to the dark side.
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