So, I've come to the conclusion that unaltered dogs are probably the strangest animals out there. I have a 1 and a half year old mutt named Cleo. She is truly my number one companion, even though she loves her Poppa more than me.
She's a picky pee-er. No lie. If it's raining, she won't pee. If it's going to rain, she won't pee. If it has rained, she won't pee. If it's windy, she won't pee. If it's snowing, yeah right. Luckily for us, we live in Pennsylvania. I've taken her to the vet, they dismissed it as behavioral.
On top of the potty problem, her new favorite hobby is humping. Yes, humping. And my boyfriend's got the lucky leg.
We've tried taking her for daily walks to help calm her down, unfortunately, this only leads to more humping and even more poo to roll around in. Yuck.
I'm scheduling an appointment to get her spayed, which will make her happier, less aggressive, live longer, and hump much less.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Broken Bones
So, I just haven't been in silly mood lately
how boring is that?
I haven't been able to crack a joke in weeks.
Hence the lack of blog posts.
Dear Funny Bone,
My life is listless and empty when I can't saturate every word with sarcasm. What has my life become if I'm not being an ass? I have had several real conversations with people over the past month, which is not just icky, it's down right embarrassing.
Please come back to me, dear funny bone, because if I have to be real for more than 10 minutes every day, I honestly don't know how much longer I can take it. Every day is hard without you. Please find your way back home.
how boring is that?
I haven't been able to crack a joke in weeks.
Hence the lack of blog posts.
Dear Funny Bone,
My life is listless and empty when I can't saturate every word with sarcasm. What has my life become if I'm not being an ass? I have had several real conversations with people over the past month, which is not just icky, it's down right embarrassing.
Please come back to me, dear funny bone, because if I have to be real for more than 10 minutes every day, I honestly don't know how much longer I can take it. Every day is hard without you. Please find your way back home.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Farewell Letter
Dear super cute green purse,
I had a fun time with you, things were just a little experimental, but I really did enjoy what we created.
It's gotta end now, I'm moving on to greater things
and I just don't have room for you in my life right now...
I wish you the best.
Brooke
( to purchase her, $18 plus shipping just copy n paste into your thinger http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=15907103 )
I had a fun time with you, things were just a little experimental, but I really did enjoy what we created.
It's gotta end now, I'm moving on to greater things
and I just don't have room for you in my life right now...
I wish you the best.
Brooke
( to purchase her, $18 plus shipping just copy n paste into your thinger http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=15907103 )
Break up letter
Dear blue scissors,
Last night was crazy, I was pretty drunk and things happened. I woke up and next to me were the orange scissors. I don't know what happened, how they got there, or how they knew where to find me. It was like fate or something. I woke up and put down my cup of coffee and my cup wouldn't sit properly, and to my surprise (and I'm hesitant to admit, my delight) were the beautiful sharp left handed orange scissors, laying there, ever so lovely.
I'm sorry if I hurt you in any way, but I will be putting you back in my sewing basket, back in the closet, and will continue using the orange scissors until they leave in the middle of the night like a dead beat husband. At least we can give ourselves a break and learn to love one another in each other's absence. I hope you find solace in the basket filled with all of the others, the not so sharp seam ripper, the bent pinking shears, the awkward sized D rings...
I keep telling myself I won't go back to you, you're not as sharp as you used to be, you aren't easy to be with anymore, you're never straight, everything's always too rough...
But once those orange scissors walk out...
I'll probably be coming back to you again..
Sincerely yours,
Brooke
Last night was crazy, I was pretty drunk and things happened. I woke up and next to me were the orange scissors. I don't know what happened, how they got there, or how they knew where to find me. It was like fate or something. I woke up and put down my cup of coffee and my cup wouldn't sit properly, and to my surprise (and I'm hesitant to admit, my delight) were the beautiful sharp left handed orange scissors, laying there, ever so lovely.
I'm sorry if I hurt you in any way, but I will be putting you back in my sewing basket, back in the closet, and will continue using the orange scissors until they leave in the middle of the night like a dead beat husband. At least we can give ourselves a break and learn to love one another in each other's absence. I hope you find solace in the basket filled with all of the others, the not so sharp seam ripper, the bent pinking shears, the awkward sized D rings...
I keep telling myself I won't go back to you, you're not as sharp as you used to be, you aren't easy to be with anymore, you're never straight, everything's always too rough...
But once those orange scissors walk out...
I'll probably be coming back to you again..
Sincerely yours,
Brooke
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Love Letters
Dear Blue Scissors,
This is Brooke, your master. I would like to say, I am sorry for using you, abusing you, and keeping you in the closet when I finally find the good pair that I like. You've always been there for me when I've been in a pinch, unless you are lost, and by lost I mean usually under the same pile of fabric I was cutting two seconds ago.
But that's not important right now. I would like to say, where the fuck are you today? Right now, I think you are probably on my desk, even though I've already searched it about 4 times, and I know I'm not crazy, but I'll find you there after I look in the closet and in the kitchen, and that's okay with me, as long as you keep coming back.
With love,
Brooke
P.S. If you see the orange scissors, let it be known that my heart is aching for the wonderful clean cut only she can provide! (And it'd be really nice if I could just find that pair too!)
This is Brooke, your master. I would like to say, I am sorry for using you, abusing you, and keeping you in the closet when I finally find the good pair that I like. You've always been there for me when I've been in a pinch, unless you are lost, and by lost I mean usually under the same pile of fabric I was cutting two seconds ago.
But that's not important right now. I would like to say, where the fuck are you today? Right now, I think you are probably on my desk, even though I've already searched it about 4 times, and I know I'm not crazy, but I'll find you there after I look in the closet and in the kitchen, and that's okay with me, as long as you keep coming back.
With love,
Brooke
P.S. If you see the orange scissors, let it be known that my heart is aching for the wonderful clean cut only she can provide! (And it'd be really nice if I could just find that pair too!)
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