Roaring Corgi

Wrinkly Faces and Grape Tomatoes

Just have to post this picture. Plus I need a few more posts to push the poop picture off the front of my blog. This dog was at a recent dog show I attended. I mean what else can you do with this face other than SQUISH IT TOGETHER?

If I owned this animal all I would do is find things to squish into the folds.

Crayons.

Grape tomatoes.

Four Leaf Clovers.

Baby chicks.

Then I would take pictures and paste them on my blog called www.awesomethingstostuffinawrinklydogface.com 

Don't actually go to that web site!! It's about murdering kitties! I was kidding. It's really porn. Haha. Just kidding. Totallykidding. It's really the murdering kitties one.

There is a crow murderer that lives on my street, or really, on my roof.

This morning I listened as a crow died on my roof. (Or was murdered.) While I stood in the shower. It was both creepy and very intimate at the same time.

We have known for the entire time of our lease that our walls are thin. We have been privy to such things as our neighbor beating/murdering/raping his wife (yes it was lovely, and my partner and I couldn't sleep the rest of the night lest the beater/murderer/rapist came into our house next), the screaming child next door, the apparent love of the band System of a Down by the same murdering neighbor, and mariachi music at all hours - which is probably the most pleasant of the entire list honestly.

I was standing in the bathroom getting ready to take a shower around 7am and I hear a thump and a crow start cawing pathetically above my head. Because there is a vent in that room that must go directly outside, I could hear it in terrible clarity while my partner slept blissfully on the other side of the door.

I heard flapping of wings while it labored on the roof. (Was being strangled by a maniacal cat human.)

It fluttered over a few inches and cawed helplessly. (The cat human tightened its grip.)

It was quiet then for a minute (was being strangled within an inch of its life) so I got into the shower, thinking it had finally passed (was finally murdered and ready to be eaten).

With shampoo in my hair the squawking started up with a vengeance. (The crow, having faked his own death, saw an opportunity to call for help from his fellow crews while the cat human murderer sharpened his paring knife for skinning.)

Then all at once there was some muffled tumbling around up there while the crow tried to take flight. (Seeing the attempted escape, the can human pounced on the crow and resumed the scuffle.)

The crow burst into a flurry of caws that made me drop the conditioner bottle to the floor and yelp. (The cat human pulled out the sharpened knife and stabbed the crow in his neck.)

Then, it was quiet. (The crow lets out his last breath and blood as the cat human grins wickedly and sits down to eat.)

It was all at once terrifying and sad, and made me feel oddly vulnerable. Like that crow was going to come crashing through my ceiling into my shower at any time.

Moral? When buying a house, one must make sure all outer and upper walls are SOUND PROOF. Otherwise you will have the unlucky chance of moving in next to murderers. Of crows. And people.

Plus I don't know about you but cat humans are freaking gross.

Tell me why I attract such awful animals, horses included.

The other day I was riding that terrible horse, Rocky, that through me into a fence. Yeah. That one. I know. I <3 him though, but then again I love Crazy Dog and he vomits on a regular basis and tries to bite people's faces, so really this horse? He doesn't do any of those things. Except for the biting. Damn.

Before I ride him I let him run around in an open arena to get out some spunk from being pent up in his stall. Usually he runs like crazy, bucking and playing around, snorting and stamping his feet at me, which actually is pretty rude.

This last time he was being lazy and purposely heading to the far end of the arena so it was difficult for me to follow him with my whip to force him to move around. One of the times I was trudging after him to crack my (real) whip at him, he noticed a horse and rider riding just outside one fence in the arena, and trotted over there to say "hi." To fill you in on Rocky's general attitude toward other horses is that he doesn't like them. He is a bit small and I think he feels the need to make up for that.

HOW DO I FIND ALL THESE ANIMALS?

Could someone please give me one that is not effed up emotionally?

So anyway, he was trying to meet that horse and rider. He trotted along parallel and then he reaches his head over the fence like hey what's up horse, I'm just gonna give you a million kisses. Except of course Rocky isn't the lovable kind of horse and then he bites that other horse right in the ribs and runs the other way tossing his head in joy.

The other horse's face registered mild pain but because the other horse is undoubtedly better behaved, he didn't do something like I don't know... SPOOK AND THROW HIS RIDER.

I followed Rocky to the other side and scolded him and while I was berating him, he reached over the fence and grabbed a hose that was wrapped up nicely and pulled it into the arena. THe ensuing scenario went like this:

I pulled the hose and said "No Bite!"

He clamped harder on the hose and stared at me.

I pulled. He stared. I pulled and then socked him in the neck.

He let go.

And ran away to the other side again. No doubt he was laughing the whole way.

Relations

It's so official. I AM my grandmother's granddaughter. Seems like an obvious statement? Perhaps. Today I woke up at the sound of my alarm at 6am and decided then and there to screw it and sleep until 7am and get into work at 9am. I have been pulling long hours recently and so has my partner, making it difficult to see each other, much less do laundry, go to the gym and clean up all the dog dirtiness around the house. <sigh>

After I snoozed for an hour, I threw on what I would call a "less-than-well-thought-out outfit" and ran out the door.

Aw, that's sweet of you. Don't be concerned. I match. I have covered all my not professional parts. It's the hair. The dog hair.

After two cups of coffee (yes, it's one of those days) I needed to use the bathroom in a major way. Well. I went in and saw my reflection in the mirror and perched on my chest were several stray corgi hairs. EVEN AFTER I HAD CHECKED AND PULLED A FEW OFF THIS MORNING.

That crap is like swine flu. It just clings. Or something.

So here I am having meetings, under the impression that people are taking me seriously, meanwhile there are dog hairs just chillin' on my sweater. How, may I ask, can ANYONE take someone like that seriously?

The first thought that hit my brain was that I was just like my grandmother, Lois. She had cats. And by "she had cats" I mean she was a cat lady. Oh yes. I am related to one. If there wasn't the proverbial coffee stain on her shirt, there was cat hair there to take it's place.

So after I had that thought I de-stressed a bit. Nothing like remembering one of the greatest, most kind and funny (and liberal! w00t grandma!) people that ever lived. She passed several years ago but I think of her often and miss her even more often.

Love you and miss you terribly grandma.

The Bruise

The bruised sternum hurts like a MOFO, but the bruised bicep looks the nastiest. In fact, my imaginary friend Joe says "sick" every time he happens to see it. He says it like I just vomited lunch on top of his pants though. Which is a bit of an exaggeration in my opinion but I guess no one asked me.

In case you have been living under a rock lately in my life or just don't pay attention, read here.

Without further ado here are the images for the entire web. First one is about a week after and the second is a few days ago. It's not only a dark bloody brown though, so all in all it's improving!

Sex Education for Intellectuals... or just, you know, people.

I was IMing with a blogger friend about random crap happening in the world, you know important stuff, like our new President (w00t), Gaza, YouTube, sex classes. The usual.

And I pasted him a link to a porn-analyzing class they are teaching in China or somewhere (totally lost the link, sorry, but here is one talking about it, in case you can't live without it).
After I sent the link, this conversation ensued...

Joela: huh.
Joela: thanks.
Joela: i'd actually take such a course
Joela: figure out why it's such a huge market
Me: its a huge market because people like sex joela
Joela: that's so...earthy
Me: to like sex?
Joela: there has to be an intellectual answer!
Me: because the domination of women typically portrayed in most porn really speaks to our basic patriarchal and and ultimately chauvinist society
Me: and we identify with it on a base level
Me: there?
Joela: hmmm. not enough big words

Inaugural Falling Off a Horse Day

I didn’t tell my insurance agent that I ride horses because it’s considered an extreme sport. I’ve been on horses who’ve tripped and fallen, and spooked, and bolted, and reared and bucked. I’d never been thrown, bucked off, or fallen off a horse. Until today.

The reasons aren’t important but Rocky spooked after about 25 minutes of some of the best riding I’ve ever done on that mutt of a horse. I was so proud of him.

And then he RAN.

Ran as fast as he could toward the other end of the arena, because he spooked. Which happens. I’m not going to lie, I thought I might die. I actually let out a scream, which I have never, ever done before on a horse.

He was running so fast the wind was whipping in my eyes and I couldn’t see. All I knew was the fence was coming and it was coming quickly. I shortened my reins and leaned back. It didn’t work. When I realized the fence was right in front of us, I leaned forward, ready to jump it with him. I was determined not to be flipped off his back and left to drag behind him as he took the fence. I got up on my two-point, and then he suddenly.. stopped. His chest slammed into the fence, pushing the railing a few feet outward, and sending me with all the leftover momentum, into the fence.

As I realized I was going to come off him, I pulled my feet out of the stirrups and relaxed into the fall. Then, bash! Right into the fence I went, chest and shoulders first. Then I fell backwards. Completely out of the saddle at this point, and landed on my back and slammed my head onto the ground. This, people, is why we wear helmets on a horse. NEVER let anyone tell you that you can ride without one. For a split second my eyes closed as I lay there.

When I finally opened my eyes, all I could hear was, “Oh My God! Oh My God!” and “Do we need to call 911?” and “Is her neck broken? Don’t get up! Your NECK MIGHT BE BROKEN!” All I could think was, Where is Rocky and is he still scared? I needed to help him.

Once I saw him standing right over me looking at me, I reached up to him to grab his neck and I staggered up to him and kept cooing at him, “You’re okay. It’s okay boy.”

Everyone was shouting at me, “Are you okay?!” All I could answer was “I think so. I think I am.” Because hell, I was walking and talking and I figured that was something. My instructor said to me, “I’ve never seen that horse run that fast in his life.” Me either in fact.

Once my legs stopped feeling like Jell-O pudding pops and my hands stopped trembling from adrenaline, I could assess where the pain was coming from. And it was coming from a lot of places, including my right shoulder and bicep, my entire sternum, my upper right thigh, and the back of my neck. As the day wears on, I am feeling more and more pain in more and more places that to me felt fine when it happened.

The first thing I thought, after my brain came back to present, was, “I need to blog this.” Which makes me feel pretty good actually, because I feel like that proves that innate part of me is truly a writer.

So after my legs solidified and I realized all my extremities were still attached to me, I got back on that horse. And we rode. And we just stayed together. And I talked to him. When I got off, a riding instructor said to me, “Have you been bitten before?” Many times. “Have you been stepped on?” Many times. “And now you’ve been thrown. And with some aplomb! You’re a real cowgirl now!”

And I guess I am. Now I’ll go ice my many bruises…

 

 

Extra Soft Dog Covers

I got some new couch slipcovers from SureFit. I am liking the red color as photo backdrops for the pups, as evidenced here and here. Otherwise, since I put these on in December, they are feeling a little like Christmas decorations for my couches that I am too lazy to remove. Or iron. (WHO IRONS SLIP COVERS? DON'T THEY COME NOT WRINKLED? WTH?)

Ask me in July I guess. Then I can say they are Independence Day decorations. Or some crap like that. I bet there is a holiday every month that would fit with red. Why is that?

Makes it convenient for me I suppose. I only got the red because it was in a material that was labeled as "pet friendly" and if by "pet friendly" they meant it would hide scratch marks, then woot, 5 stars for you SureFit. If by "pet friendly" they meant it wouldn't let shedding corgi hair stick to it like it was made of honey, or they meant it would withstand all the shifting around of dogs on when they are sleeping and not bunch up enormously so that you can see the old couch under it anyway... well then you FAILED.

And those little plastic thingamajiggers that you shove in the creases to make sure it stays in place and you only have to "tuck once?" AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

But you know, other than that I like them.

So Emo

Had a conversation with a guy at my office today. And he is emo. No matter what he tries to deny. His name is A. The letter. Even that is emo.

Me: we're being emo in here
Me: you would fit in
Me: <slaps knee> AHAHAHAHA
Me: but true
Friend:...i'm not emo
Me: whatEVER
Me: come in here and just tell me you don't like this song
Friend: is that you playing "Boston"?
Me: yeah
Friend: i love that song

And now the song for those of you not emo enough to know it (they disabled embedding of the actual video - lame - so here it is in it's real format, please forgive the ultra stupid video this user made and just listen to the song):

Letter to Los Angelenos on a Rainy Day

Dearest Fellow Drivers on the 5 Freeway,

There are certain things I would like to tell you; things I think you should know; things that will make you a better person.

Windshield wipers are good to use when it's raining. You see, they wipe away the rain that hits your windshield. Some smart person named those suckers appropriately didn't they! Usually you turn them on with a switch that is near your steering wheel. Oh, a steering wheel? That's what makes your car go straight and not cross those little white lines that separate your lane from mine. Right? Weird concept, I know.

Also headlights help you see better. Just a thought. Do with it what you will.

Brakes should not be used on rainy roads as they would in normal conditions. The road is now wet, which equals different from what you are used to.

Oh and because it's raining, it probably is better if you don't ride the ass of my car like you would when it's dry and sunny out. I heard it has something to do with safety or some BS like that. Lame, I know.

And rain? I'm not sure if you saw this news item on Google's home page, but it totally doesn't kill you. Bear with me here. Rain is WATER. Holy crazy notion Batman! When that stuff hits your windshield, it will not melt your car, so you do not need to apply your brakes, slow to 25 mph, or change lanes wildly in order to avoid said "water."

So Los Angelenos out there, in the interest of other fellow drivers, I thought I might write you a letter to let you know about some of these cool facts I learned.

You know, so hopefully this will help me get to work a little safer and quicker. I hope you found this letter helpful.

Watch this below informative video that will help you understand that doing stupid, asinine things like cutting people off on the road while it's wet? Well, it's not a great idea.

And Merry Christmas to you, you bunch of terrible drivers, I love you and I always will.

xoxo,

Editor
Roaring Corgi