Archive for the ‘furry things’ Category

Same Difference


I miss you, internet friends.

I will be back soon, but for today?


A lemur – doing what lemurs do best – will serve as a replacement for my blogging.

Let’s call him Leroy.


Michael Phelps Burst My Olympians-as-Symbols-of-Purity Bubble


So, we’ve all read the news about our country’s precious waterbaby, Michael Phelps, being busted smoking the gange. If you couldn’t quite get a visual, allow me:

And chex out that WATCH. Gorge.

And chex out that WATCH. Gorge.

My first reaction? Good for him! I’m sure he needs a little relaxation in his life.

If I remember ANYTHING from my days of following Michelle Kwan and hoping to fulfill my (mother’s) dream of being an Olympic athlete, I remember this:

That shit is time-consuming.

(The being an athlete, not the obsessively tracking Michelle Kwan and her latest competition results. Though the hours I spent watching the ice princess on TV during my youth may or may not have also been a questionable use of my time.)

Shut up.

And – seriously – she did want me to become a figure skater. I recall watching Michelle Kwan at a medal ceremony during the Olympics, while listening to my mother bitterly comment, “That could have been you.”

Really, Mom? I know you had high expectations for me, but…really?

Anyway, the more I think about this Puff-the-Magic-Dragon situation we have on our hands, the more perturbed I feel. Not because I don’t think he deserves a good time just as much as the next guy, but because it reinforces the notion that there’s this secret, slimshady universe athletes exist in.

They pretend to be all clean-cut on the outside, but REALLY, they are freaks. Maybe even super freaks?

You know of what I am referring.

The incredible amount of sex that goes on during the Olympics.

Between the athletes.

I know.

And, apparently, the swimmers are the worst. I read that the swimming events are typically scheduled at the beginning of the Games because the aquatic folk are just…er…rarin’ to go.

Folks. When I found out about this during the Games last summer, I was SHOCKED. Flabbergasted.

Did you know that during the Sydney Games in 2000, the athletes collectively drained the area of all available contraception? So, the next time around, the planners decided that one cannot fight the moonlight and distributed 130,000 free condoms to the “active” Athens athletes. That’s roughly 13 condoms per athlete!


So…you mean THAT’S what Michelle Kwan was doing in between triple axels and Russian splits at the Winter Games?

(Or maybe she did the Russian splits in between the Russian splits, ifyaknowwhatImean.)

Now how do you feel about my failure to pursue a career as a professional figure skater, Ma?

I digress.

Am I the only one living under the safe shelter of ignorance when it comes to this?

To think of it – still – is just a bit too much.

Aesop’s Newest Fable: The Battery That Was Quite Expensive


I was just about to go to bed when…

I hear the remote fall off the couch, knocked off by my aforementioned puppy friend.

Remote falling = batteries falling out of remote which has no back = puppy friend eating batteries

So, puppy friend trots up to me with half of a AAA Energizer sticking out of her mouth (ironic, since it seems puppy friend is also run by a AAA Energizer).

Haha. So humorous at 12:30 in the AM, puppy friend.

She performs her latest trick by dropping the battery on command. I give myself an actual pat on the back for being such a responsible dog owner.

But…where is the other battery? It takes two to make a dream come true, baby. Or to make the remote turn on the DVD player. Whatever.

I look under the couch cushions, on the floor, perhaps it rolled under the bathroom door?

It is nowhere.

I turn my attention to Iris and, with desperation, say aloud, “Did you EAT the battery, Iris?”

I call TBWSRN in the Eastern Time Zone because that’s what I do when I don’t know what else to do. You see, he has this idea that the dog is some sort of actual human being and -let’s be honest- was already secretly concerned that the girl who once ran out of Science Diet and instead supplied the dog with an “All the Gravy Bones You Can Eat” buffet for just a couple of days, really, was being left alone with his “child” for an extended period of time. He promptly got on the internet to Google an answer to this problem. The battery problem, that is. I don’t think there’s a Google entry for “inadequate animal caregiver.”

He comes up with the following: give her milk to neutralize in case she did a chomp-n-swallow and get her an x-ray. Stat.

“Whatever you think is best,” I say – only it comes out, “Do you KNOW how much that will cost?”

The puppy friend and I drive to the Emergency Vet in the Wild West of road conditions. (All lanes were covered with ice, which was covered with snow. Seriously, you couldn’t have waited until daylight to swallow this battery, Iris?) We get put into a waiting room. As we wait, I get on my phone to discover just how much of the internet the Envy2 is capable of letting me see. (Not much.) Iris does the following:

"I must sniff every square inch of this new place."

"I must sniff every square inch of this new place."

"Okay, done. Let's ditch this popsicle stand."

"Okay, done. Let's ditch this popsicle stand."

The vet does an x-ray.

“Good news,” she says.

Folks, there was no battery.

Thank God. I mean, really, thank God.

But, come on!

Moral of the Story:

(This is a fable)

If you are looking for something really expensive that you can love, perhaps you should consider a child instead. And watch that child like a hawk.

Suspicions Confirmed


Anderson Cooper Races Michael Phelps

(Both in Speedos)


Here it is folks, your moment of CUTE



I want five.