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New Couch + Weiner Dogs = Trauma

If you must know....and yes, you must, I spent most of today dealing with new couch/old couch and my "seriously in need of therapy" mini - dachshunds.

The old girl, Bridgette, didn't get upset until we took the old couch out. She FREAKS when she sees a suitcase...so furniture leaving means HOLYSHITTHEYAREMOVINGANDLEAVINGMEBEHIND! We think she had a traumatic past, possibly in some covert ops role in Nam. She really doesn't like to talk about it.

So after "trauma girl" we thought, hey, let's get a puppy from a breeder so it won't be pre-traumatized. Any trauma he suffers we will directly cause! No...he's pretty good... the little boy just whined quietly to himself for several hours.

Rocked his little doggie world. Poor Dooley!

My husband and I think he doesn't like animal flesh covered furniture. (We gots leather couch, with cup holders!) Plus this couch is much higher than our old one and he seems reluctant to jump up...yet I saw him do it when he thought I wasn't looking!

I tossed the old throw pillows on the floor to get them out of the way. The little boy arranged them in a nest and fell asleep.

The cat could care less.

Oh, and when I moved the old couch I found at least twenty nubs of various chewies that SOMEHOW got pushed underneath. Ick. Dooley found an old almond and made off with it before I could get it. I suppose they don't go bad...but still...ick.

I Recently joined a writers crit group and one of the critters and her boyfriend produce this online graphic novel that is pretty cool. Give it some love! Pass it on!
My husband likes the survey thing on the Wii. I think it's kinda stupid because the questions are along the lines of "If you call someone, and they don't answer, do you hang up and call back later or leave a message?"

Honestly who cares.

A recent question was, "What are rhino horns made of? Bone or hair?"

So, you choose an answer, several days pass, and then you can view the results from everyone who cared to have an opinion. It is revealed as a percentage.

Rhino horns are made of keratin - same stuff that makes your nails and hair. My husband and I both knew this, I don't know exactly when I acquired this knowledge...perhaps I saw it on TV or read it...doesn't matter. I just knew it - like a general knowledge thing.

Based on the choice of bone or hair, I guess hair would be more correct.

So yesterday he looks up the results. More than 70% picked bone.

Ok, but that's wrong. That's the wrong answer. It's not an opinion. It's just wrong.

What I find even worse is these people who answered are using a Wii. It's connected to the internet. SO even if you didn't have a single computer or phone in the house with an internet connection you could look it up ... on the Wii.

Come on people, a mind is a terrible thing to waste. If you didn't know the answer wouldn't you be just a tad curious???

My husband said, "But, that's wrong."

Yes it is.

How can you have an opinion on something that is a fact. Keratin. Fact.

I can only hope most of the participants in the "survey" were kids and haven't watched the rhino special on Animal Planet yet.

My short story is doing well!

I just checked on my short story, "Shake, Rattle and Troll" and discovered it has just under 300 views since being posted in the end of November. WOW! It is the second most read story and the third most popular page on the site.

I am honored and humbled.

If you haven't read it yet please check it out. The site is very professionally done , one of the nicest short story sites I've seen. It's also relatively new, so consider subscribing (free) and give it some love. :)

Here's the link: www.short-story.me/fantasy-stories.html

Pass it on to your friends! Thanks!

The frozen south.

I shouldn't complain about the cold since I live in Florida. But it's still cold. And I'm still complaining.

I just wanted chocolate soy milk!

We join our hero in the local WalMart. She has a small list; cereal, soy milk, rice pudding, a few frozen dinners... nothing related to Christmas.

With her shopping complete she heads to the check out lines. Each line has at least six people waiting. Some are yelling at each other in another language. Our hero smiles, she secretly enjoys it when people shop angry.

She trolls the entire length of the check out area. Twenty items or less? How is that a fast lane?

Resigned to her fate she selects one of the "fast lanes" and waits behind an older gentleman who is in no hurry. Our hero isn't in a hurry either, but after ten minutes she fidgets. She's getting hot, wants to take off her sweater, a small child in the cart behind her starts crying - now she's in a hurry.

Next in line - ah, that golden moment - our hero prepares her debit card, she is next.

The older gentleman has coupons! LOTS of coupons! Ok, it's going to be ok, she tells herself. They can be scanned, it shouldn't be much longer.

OH NO! The cashier can't get one of them to work! And there are questions about it's validity! The head cashier is summonded!

Our hero will give the old fart a dollar to take his offending coupon and pay already! She starts putting her items on the counter, shoving them ever closer to the cashier - a silent threat - start ringing me up cashier girl - or else.

Finally, payment is made and cashier girl begins the scanning. All goes smoothly. Our hero pays, enter your pin, number, number, number, number, no I don't want any stupid cash back! Receipt, load up the bags into the cart, have a great holiday the cashier says...running now...running for the doors...will she make it...has her frozen stuffed cabbage dinner melted?!

Outside...fresh air...assaulted by noise of bell ringers...running...where's the car...it's blue isn't it...or grey...she can't remember! In desperation she hits the door lock button and follows the distant beeping of the car....there! There it is! Hidden by the minivan!

Bags in the back, cart...need to return the cart...no cart returns...screw it...up on the curb...dash back to the car....lock the doors...safe....our hero is safe.

She returns home victorious, has a big ass glass of chocolate soy milk and takes a well deserved nap. Good job hero, good job.
"Try Wii fit, hurt hip. Conclude exercise is trying to kill me."

"Get laid off."

"Be pissed off for a month."

"Look for a job."

"Grumble, grumble."

"Take a cruise. Enjoy sleeping on a bed that is also a table."

"...ok, being home isn't so bad..."

"Watch every episode of Law and Order."

"Run out of good books to read!"

"Why is the dog limping?"

"Order HBO just to watch TruBlood."

"The vet bill cost more than the dog!"


"I could write a better story than this."

"Seasons 1 - 5 of Lost, watched non-stop over the course of two weeks."

"Write a short story."

"Sell the short story."

"Get paid for the story! Meteoric rise, here I come!"


"Write, write, write, write. I could get used to this."

"Thank you emergency stage II unemployment!"

"More writing....."

"Clean the garage."

"Big Cat Diary. Totally addicted."

"ROAR! I am a lion! I stalk the dogs around the living room."

"Owie...rug burn! Do lions get run burn?"

"Create my own website. Prepared for the big time now!"

"Loose eight pounds on weight watchers."

"Christmas tree cakes are in stores!!!"

"Have first interview in seven months of looking - it's on the phone, but feels promising."

"Receive email next day, they've decided to move the job to their NY office. Sorry."

"Black mood for a few days."

"Reconnect with sister."

"Decide to order marzipan in bulk. NOM NOM NOM NOM."

"Send sister some marzipan!"

"Mmmmmm.....baked goods."

"Consider marketing self as a personal assistant to someone famous."

"Realize I don't know anyone famous. Slight set back in plan."

"Take a deep breath,"

"Have great ideas in the shower, never been cleaner."

"Eat popcorn."

"Season finale of Dexter moved to top of my 'best episode ever' list. Knocks the final episode of Six Feet Under to number two."

"Be thankful for gainfully employed husband, a few good friends, cable television, netflix, Kindle, and three adorable pets who hang out with me every day."

"Take nap."

"Ponder what my life will be like this time next year."

The end.

What made me smile today.

I'm trolling around for a new UF/PR book to read (I've got LKH's most recent sexcapade .... I mean novel ... on Kindle but I just can't seem to get into it) and whilst searching for alternative vampire-like books I came across one entitled (and I can not make this stuff up) Don't Spank the Vamp. It's got vampires in it and, apparently, spanking.

If the vampire asks you nicely to spank him (or her) is that ok? The book could be:

"Don't spank the vamp, unless they really want you to, and you want to...back...I guess."

Tee hee.

Rules and poop.

When we moved into a community with an HOA (Home Owners Association) we received a three inch binder with our "rules". Ok, I get that. They probably have to make a rule for every possible thing that has or will occur. No problem. I want my community to look nice, this wasn't a cheap town house, I appreciate not having to mow the lawn and having a pool to use.

Did I mention we pay a fee to the HOA every month? Again, no problem. Grass has to be mowed, security gate has to be repaired every week because someone drives through it, six foot HIGH speed bumps need to be installed, palm trees need to be planted because, due to the new six foot HIGH speed bumps people are driving over the lawn. We even have a security guy who hangs out in the "club house" and drives around in a golf cart every few hours at night.

Now, I have noticed that some rules are constantly broken and/or not enforced. People park on the sidewalks and lawns because the builder didn't put in enough parking. Violation. People leave their garage doors open (horrors) during times they are clearly not pulling the car in or out. (NOTE: the garage is so narrow our SUV won't fit anyway, so technically we should never be opening our garage door.) Violation. People let their dogs out side without a leash, without supervision and without cleaning up after them. Violation.

Now let's pause here a moment. I have witnessed dogs pooping on the lawn, side walk, driveway, and road with no owner present and no one to pick up their poop. I have seen owners stand at their back door as their dogs ran all over the lawn, pooped, and returned home with no bag toting person running out to clean up.

I (me) have always picked up after my dogs. ALWAYS. There are little kids running around barefoot, and while I don't understand why anyone would be barefoot in Florida, I assume they don't want poopie feet. It's smelly, unsanitary, rude, etc. Got it.

So, I'm standing on my driveway, next to my car (that I can't fit in the garage), with my dogs, who are walking around on my tiny patch of lawn. As my dog is mid-crap, one of my neighbors drives up in her giant SUV and begins YELLING at me about the dog poop. I've never met her, she's never said (ahem) shit to me in the three years I've lived here. What I got was her child had stepped in dog poop, she didn't see me picking up my dog's poop, I was in violation of the rules, and did I want her to report me.

Oh, did I mention I was having a migraine when this occurred.

Yes, I did want her to report me. Forgive me for not catching the poop in a bag as my dog is delivering it to the world. I am terrified of the stern letter. Please. Bring it.

After realizing I was going to ignore her, she drove away.

Then I took the bag out of my pocket and picked up the dog poop.

I win.