One dog trying to hump another dog is nothing unusual, happens every hour of every day all over the world. My dog, of course, can't get it right, and since he doesn't have any real experience to draw from he's a little confused. This isn't something that you can teach a dog, you can't back one dog up, then push the other one forward and orchestrate with a milk-bone in each hand, once you bring food into the picture they lose all interest in humping.
So in one corner I have a 2 year old 120 pound male German Shepherd, big dog, thick dog, everything you would want in the breed and he's fully functional and equipped, the wife wanted to get him "fixed" but I didn't think he was "broken" so he still has all his parts and his big "baritone" bark, scares the hell out of all of the delivery people.
In the other corner I have a 15 year old 30 pound Beagle/Bassett that is "fixed" because she was "broken", she's a funny looking thing, big knot on her head, bowed legs that are impossibly crooked, missing teeth, she's my zombie dog.
The problem is this, and really it's not a problem so much, it's just that when I see it, I yell at him to stop it, because it's just silly, the big dog sees the little dog and then the big dog "air humps" his way towards the little dog, "red rocket" then presents itself in all it's glory and starts whacking away at that big knot on her head, that's it, he never gets it right, not once. The little dog is just standing around minding her own business and then "bam" it's a "Canine 69", one dog completely fits under the other and then it just deteriorates into a big barking mess.
I don't have any experience in training a dog on reproduction or relief thereof, but I would wager that there is a way, I bet I could search for guidance, instructions, video's, podcasts, blogs, someone, somewhere does have an answer. Or I could mess with my Vet and ask her to provide "relief", they do that you know, or am I a "crappy dog owner" if I don't ask her to help out? Is there a subtle catchphrase I can use? "I'd like an order of Dog Jerky", "Can you donate to Rover Relief"?, "Can you walk Sparky for me"? She wasn't real happy when I asked for an "anal expression" I wonder how she'll take this request.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
"Steak"
That's one of my names, "Steak", and I like it, I like it so much that I kept it. It's the kind of nickname that you have to love, unless of course "you" are a "vegetarian", which is a lousy nickname. This is another one of those strange things that happen by mistake and then once you find out about it you can either "fix it" or "perpetuate it", guess which one I chose to do.
It started with "shoes", me and the wife were out shopping for shoes and we decided to try "Famous Footwear", we found shoes and bought shoes and then of course the clerk asks us if we want to join the "rewards club", this gets you on their mailing list and they send us coupons and discounts for shoes, the more shoes we buy the more discounts we get. The wife wants to join but she never wants to do the paperwork to join, so of course I get to do it. This is a very familiar theme that we repeat over and over during our marriage.
And then life goes on..........months later a letter shows up from Famous Footwear, it's addressed to "Steak" followed by my last name, the clerk had not only misspelled my first name, somehow she had completely changed it into a delicious main entree. I can type my name with my left hand and I never have to use my right hand, which is where the "K" is, so how it is that she made this mistake I'll never know. There is always the chance that she does this with everyone she signs up for the club.
So "Steak" it was and it was funny, who knew shopping for shoes could be funny, getting mail was funny, going out for steak was funny. The fun never stopped when it came to shoes and steak.
And then a clerk noticed it and offered to change it, this kind of freaked me out, I couldn't let that happen, I felt like Gollum and that "name" was my "ring", my "precious", so I politely declined, she then insisted and asked for my first name, and as stupid as this whole thing is I just could not let it go, I didn't want to lose it forever, if she changed it in the computer then it would go away forever, I wouldn't tell her my first name so I just begged her off and said "no" "leave it", "it's funny when it shows up in the mail", "it's funny when I have a coupon that says "Steak" gets 20% off". She smiled and left it alone, my wife was dying of laughter during all of this, but she knew what it meant to me.
It's a manly nickname "Steak", whats better then that? I use it on all of my store clubs now, 3 different grocery stores, sporting goods store, every chance I get because there can never be enough "Steak". If it ever shows up on my credit report as an alias I'm going to have to celebrate.
My favorite steakhouse is "Ruth's Chris Steakhouse", my wife's favorite is "Steve's Sizzling Steaks" no shit, true story.
It started with "shoes", me and the wife were out shopping for shoes and we decided to try "Famous Footwear", we found shoes and bought shoes and then of course the clerk asks us if we want to join the "rewards club", this gets you on their mailing list and they send us coupons and discounts for shoes, the more shoes we buy the more discounts we get. The wife wants to join but she never wants to do the paperwork to join, so of course I get to do it. This is a very familiar theme that we repeat over and over during our marriage.
And then life goes on..........months later a letter shows up from Famous Footwear, it's addressed to "Steak" followed by my last name, the clerk had not only misspelled my first name, somehow she had completely changed it into a delicious main entree. I can type my name with my left hand and I never have to use my right hand, which is where the "K" is, so how it is that she made this mistake I'll never know. There is always the chance that she does this with everyone she signs up for the club.
So "Steak" it was and it was funny, who knew shopping for shoes could be funny, getting mail was funny, going out for steak was funny. The fun never stopped when it came to shoes and steak.
And then a clerk noticed it and offered to change it, this kind of freaked me out, I couldn't let that happen, I felt like Gollum and that "name" was my "ring", my "precious", so I politely declined, she then insisted and asked for my first name, and as stupid as this whole thing is I just could not let it go, I didn't want to lose it forever, if she changed it in the computer then it would go away forever, I wouldn't tell her my first name so I just begged her off and said "no" "leave it", "it's funny when it shows up in the mail", "it's funny when I have a coupon that says "Steak" gets 20% off". She smiled and left it alone, my wife was dying of laughter during all of this, but she knew what it meant to me.
It's a manly nickname "Steak", whats better then that? I use it on all of my store clubs now, 3 different grocery stores, sporting goods store, every chance I get because there can never be enough "Steak". If it ever shows up on my credit report as an alias I'm going to have to celebrate.
My favorite steakhouse is "Ruth's Chris Steakhouse", my wife's favorite is "Steve's Sizzling Steaks" no shit, true story.
Monday, December 7, 2009
I'm not Johnny Depp
I have been told by quite a few people that I "look" like him, so what I'm going to try to do is just that, I am going to see how far I can go with this, I can do the hair, although I think he likes it a bit more greasy then I do, I part mine in the middle and he pulls it straight back without a part and we both wear it about the same length so I'm pretty sure I can do the hair thing.
Mustache, soul patch and goatee, this could be a problem because I have the facial hair growing tendencies of a 10 year old, I'll know I'm getting somewhere when my wife starts complaining. What I have never done in my entire life is that I have never, ever grown a full beard, mostly because it won't grow, I end up looking like I have the "mange" with open spots that you can actually see where hair will "never" "ever" grow, like I got little baby butts here and there on my face.
I'll order me some vintage style big frame glasses tomorrow, they appear to be "Arnel's", I need a new pair anyway before the year end for my insurance allotment, I think I'll go with the Blond Tortoise.
He's only 6 years younger then me and we are roughly the same height and weight except where I'm "doughy" he's probably firmer, I'll hide that with clothes. I think I can do this, I'm not going to tell my wife about it though, she rarely reads this blog so I may get away with it for awhile, in the meantime I'll delve into the "Pirates of the Caribbean" and pickup some "Sparrowisms" I can bandy about.
This could be fun, and we all need fun so.........fun it is then :)
Mustache, soul patch and goatee, this could be a problem because I have the facial hair growing tendencies of a 10 year old, I'll know I'm getting somewhere when my wife starts complaining. What I have never done in my entire life is that I have never, ever grown a full beard, mostly because it won't grow, I end up looking like I have the "mange" with open spots that you can actually see where hair will "never" "ever" grow, like I got little baby butts here and there on my face.
I'll order me some vintage style big frame glasses tomorrow, they appear to be "Arnel's", I need a new pair anyway before the year end for my insurance allotment, I think I'll go with the Blond Tortoise.
He's only 6 years younger then me and we are roughly the same height and weight except where I'm "doughy" he's probably firmer, I'll hide that with clothes. I think I can do this, I'm not going to tell my wife about it though, she rarely reads this blog so I may get away with it for awhile, in the meantime I'll delve into the "Pirates of the Caribbean" and pickup some "Sparrowisms" I can bandy about.
This could be fun, and we all need fun so.........fun it is then :)
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Crazy Pants
I have been on a weight loss journey along with my wife for the last year or so and it's been going really well, every month or so I lose enough to shout it out on face book, I still have a ways to go, my goal is around 170 to 175, I'm close to 6 feet tall so that's a nice healthy goal, not to skinny, not to heavy. So that means I have approximately 15 to 20 pounds left to lose before I can really and I mean really wear some of my old pants.
I put some of the old pants away in the closet, hung them on hangers and kept shoving them to the left to make way for the ever increasing waist size pants. I was growing so was my wardrobe, I remember wearing size 27 waist jeans as a teen but I was skinny, after I got out of the Marine Corps I was at a size 32 waist and there I stayed for the next 20 years, I need to write that again for my benefit "and there I stayed for the next 20 years". Memories.
I quit smoking cigarettes and thus began the "great expansion", at first it took some time, like I was slowly blowing up a balloon, one of those long thin ones the clowns use, my pants felt tight after I washed them and then they felt tight all the time. 34 waist, 36 waist, 38 waist, stop, it didn't go any further then that. I had quit smoking and I had quit drinking but I also had replaced both with eating and bad eating at that, old story, fat guy in mirror, doctor appointment, fat guy in doctors office, blood work, fat guy getting blood tested. The ultimate insult was the fat pants, pants with elastic "sizers". Bad times :(.
And then I got serious about moving my waist size the other way, and I did, I walked it backwards, it has taken months, almost a year now, I started feeling better, I started looking better, I was wearing a size 36 then 35 and then it happened.
My wife was rushing me out of the house to buy an area rug for our family room before she had to leave for work, so time was of the essence, I was in sweatpants (stretchy) and I will not usually appear in public wearing sweatpants, she knows this, so wheres the jeans (35) that fit? In the washer, fuck! Now what? My wife suggests that surely there must be pants that fit in the closet, I hadn't been in there, I had no idea if there was or not, I was confused and scared and being rushed so I went into the closet and found a pair of "khakis" I had bought years ago for some informal occasion, you know, Christmas day khakis, concert khakis, the pants you only wear a few times and then forget in the closet, those khakis.
Size 32
Now I start having these visions that there is no way these are even going over my hips! (I had a previous incident), but they did, they buttoned, they zipped, they were incredibly tight, as a side note I was also "going commando", and it's a good thing that I did because that sliver of "Fruit of the Loom" would have prevented a successful closure. Some bizarre twist of fate had allowed me to squeeze into a pair of pants that I had no business being in, They looked like a "spray tan" all the way down to my knees and then they finally loosened up a bit, enough for the hair on my calves to move, it looked like I had large pockets attached to my thighs, you know "KHAKIS".
Of course my wife says "you look fine lets go", she lied, so I throw on a large t-shirt to complete this ridiculous charade, I know I'm going shopping for an area rug looking like a dancer from the 80's, all I need is a headband, I walk in front of my wife to get a reaction and oh yeah......giggling. I'm pretty sure that pants are supposed to hang loosely from the waist down, these actually are form fitting, they actually conform to the shape of my ass and front. I put on a long coat and went out the door looking for a rug.
Besides the discomfort of sitting, driving and walking in my spray tan pants it all goes well, no one complements my circumcision and we find a rug, we get home and my wife say's "go put your sweats on and get out of those pants".
I reply "no way, these are 32's".
I put some of the old pants away in the closet, hung them on hangers and kept shoving them to the left to make way for the ever increasing waist size pants. I was growing so was my wardrobe, I remember wearing size 27 waist jeans as a teen but I was skinny, after I got out of the Marine Corps I was at a size 32 waist and there I stayed for the next 20 years, I need to write that again for my benefit "and there I stayed for the next 20 years". Memories.
I quit smoking cigarettes and thus began the "great expansion", at first it took some time, like I was slowly blowing up a balloon, one of those long thin ones the clowns use, my pants felt tight after I washed them and then they felt tight all the time. 34 waist, 36 waist, 38 waist, stop, it didn't go any further then that. I had quit smoking and I had quit drinking but I also had replaced both with eating and bad eating at that, old story, fat guy in mirror, doctor appointment, fat guy in doctors office, blood work, fat guy getting blood tested. The ultimate insult was the fat pants, pants with elastic "sizers". Bad times :(.
And then I got serious about moving my waist size the other way, and I did, I walked it backwards, it has taken months, almost a year now, I started feeling better, I started looking better, I was wearing a size 36 then 35 and then it happened.
My wife was rushing me out of the house to buy an area rug for our family room before she had to leave for work, so time was of the essence, I was in sweatpants (stretchy) and I will not usually appear in public wearing sweatpants, she knows this, so wheres the jeans (35) that fit? In the washer, fuck! Now what? My wife suggests that surely there must be pants that fit in the closet, I hadn't been in there, I had no idea if there was or not, I was confused and scared and being rushed so I went into the closet and found a pair of "khakis" I had bought years ago for some informal occasion, you know, Christmas day khakis, concert khakis, the pants you only wear a few times and then forget in the closet, those khakis.
Size 32
Now I start having these visions that there is no way these are even going over my hips! (I had a previous incident), but they did, they buttoned, they zipped, they were incredibly tight, as a side note I was also "going commando", and it's a good thing that I did because that sliver of "Fruit of the Loom" would have prevented a successful closure. Some bizarre twist of fate had allowed me to squeeze into a pair of pants that I had no business being in, They looked like a "spray tan" all the way down to my knees and then they finally loosened up a bit, enough for the hair on my calves to move, it looked like I had large pockets attached to my thighs, you know "KHAKIS".
Of course my wife says "you look fine lets go", she lied, so I throw on a large t-shirt to complete this ridiculous charade, I know I'm going shopping for an area rug looking like a dancer from the 80's, all I need is a headband, I walk in front of my wife to get a reaction and oh yeah......giggling. I'm pretty sure that pants are supposed to hang loosely from the waist down, these actually are form fitting, they actually conform to the shape of my ass and front. I put on a long coat and went out the door looking for a rug.
Besides the discomfort of sitting, driving and walking in my spray tan pants it all goes well, no one complements my circumcision and we find a rug, we get home and my wife say's "go put your sweats on and get out of those pants".
I reply "no way, these are 32's".
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Shhh, I'm blogging
I think I'm blogging to the choir here, maybe they are so busy reading that they cant sing praises to my writing. Not likely but I will keep the faith so to speak and try again.
I've been thinking that a woman's "purse", "handbag" to my wife, is nothing more then a toolbox and I don't know how they got away with it first, it's way to late for us men to reverse that, but imagine if you could remove all past references to the "handbag", if no one had ever thought of it, if no one had ever carried one, could we make it a "man bag"? If you think about it how much stuff would you carry around if you could? I think that's where the problem lies and how women claimed the idea as their own.
You see women put in just enough stuff, they can modify it to carry more or less depending on the situation, there are some "freak" bags out there, huge luggage like things that they still manage to keep in the "purse" category, as a rule though they do seem to have a code of conduct concerning them.
Men on the other hand would absolutely go above and beyond given the chance to carry around the "stuff" we might need. I would carry a hammer for sure, I have been in a lot of circumstances where a hammer would have been just the right thing at just the right time, "BernzOmatic", hell yeah, many a time I could have used one and did not have one handy, screwdrivers for sure, and on and on. That's the problem, "we", "men" that is do not have the willpower to make it work for us, at that point we are just carrying around a toolbox, we can't scale it down, it's not in our nature.
It's too bad to, so instead we settle for this tiny folding envelope to stuff in our back pockets, I've had hundreds of them, they all end up looking exactly the same after a few months, it doesn't matter if they are made of leather, canvas, whatever, after 2 months they all end up shaped like your ass, and smelling somewhat like where it spends it's time, I never keep money in it, but I do fill it with crap I sometimes need, beside the debit card everything else in there is suspect, the pictures are there because they are supposed to be, not because they have to be, sure I love my kids, I also see them every day and have not forgotten what they look like yet, I have never had to check my wallet pictures to make sure.
Sometimes the wife gets a hold of the wallet, I have never picked up her purse with her right there with me and started perusing through it all the while asking questions about what each and every item is, I'm not insane, I know better, they on the other hand have a need to know what every scrap of paper that you put in there is for. I don't know! I can look in my wallet right now and find shit that I have no idea what it's for or why I would keep it. Believe it or not we can have phone numbers with a woman's name on it and it can be perfectly innocent, it's true. If I had sex or an affair with every woman/girl that has ever given me her phone number I would genuinely be a man of legend.
So, all is right within our universe, woman carry around everything they think they may need, men wish we could. The next time you see a guy with a rubber band around his exploding wallet, tell him to get a purse.
I've been thinking that a woman's "purse", "handbag" to my wife, is nothing more then a toolbox and I don't know how they got away with it first, it's way to late for us men to reverse that, but imagine if you could remove all past references to the "handbag", if no one had ever thought of it, if no one had ever carried one, could we make it a "man bag"? If you think about it how much stuff would you carry around if you could? I think that's where the problem lies and how women claimed the idea as their own.
You see women put in just enough stuff, they can modify it to carry more or less depending on the situation, there are some "freak" bags out there, huge luggage like things that they still manage to keep in the "purse" category, as a rule though they do seem to have a code of conduct concerning them.
Men on the other hand would absolutely go above and beyond given the chance to carry around the "stuff" we might need. I would carry a hammer for sure, I have been in a lot of circumstances where a hammer would have been just the right thing at just the right time, "BernzOmatic", hell yeah, many a time I could have used one and did not have one handy, screwdrivers for sure, and on and on. That's the problem, "we", "men" that is do not have the willpower to make it work for us, at that point we are just carrying around a toolbox, we can't scale it down, it's not in our nature.
It's too bad to, so instead we settle for this tiny folding envelope to stuff in our back pockets, I've had hundreds of them, they all end up looking exactly the same after a few months, it doesn't matter if they are made of leather, canvas, whatever, after 2 months they all end up shaped like your ass, and smelling somewhat like where it spends it's time, I never keep money in it, but I do fill it with crap I sometimes need, beside the debit card everything else in there is suspect, the pictures are there because they are supposed to be, not because they have to be, sure I love my kids, I also see them every day and have not forgotten what they look like yet, I have never had to check my wallet pictures to make sure.
Sometimes the wife gets a hold of the wallet, I have never picked up her purse with her right there with me and started perusing through it all the while asking questions about what each and every item is, I'm not insane, I know better, they on the other hand have a need to know what every scrap of paper that you put in there is for. I don't know! I can look in my wallet right now and find shit that I have no idea what it's for or why I would keep it. Believe it or not we can have phone numbers with a woman's name on it and it can be perfectly innocent, it's true. If I had sex or an affair with every woman/girl that has ever given me her phone number I would genuinely be a man of legend.
So, all is right within our universe, woman carry around everything they think they may need, men wish we could. The next time you see a guy with a rubber band around his exploding wallet, tell him to get a purse.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Future Self
I see him now, he looks different, older, I saw him in the mirror this morning I think for the first time. I know now that time travel is possible, I do it every day, the difference is that now I see it for what it is, I am "aging", I am moving through time and as I do it "takes" from me, my DNA is no longer completing the entire replication process and it sucks.
So I'm in a constant state of "unflux", I find myself being undone by living, by getting to the next day I lose a piece of myself that can't return and I have to accept what is left to work with. I knew this was coming, I didn't think it would be so soon though, I thought I had more time. It doesn't matter who it is I'm seeing in the mirror although I do recognize the face, someday someone may read this and understand just what it is I'm trying to say as they too see a older familiar face in their mirror.
All I can do is fine tune myself, engineer an advantage that others may not seek, eat for life, move for life, read to engage and stimulate mental gymnastics, find solace in mind and body and then hold on. Companionship will be "air", without it, death would be closer, faster, more certain, I would strangle in a void of lonesomeness.
I wonder what "future self" thinks about all of this, does he make the right decisions? Is he staring at the stars and sharing his thoughts with his love, is he happy with his progenies and theirs? Everything that I do today works towards that end. I believe I can manipulate parts if not all of that future, there is no destiny that I do not have a part in, nothing predetermined that I can't change to my advantage, my biggest enemy will be human nature, most likely my own, this is where I need help, protection from my own mistakes. I can't think of everything but I do know who can fill in what I miss. Her resume sports 20 years of experience in me, time well served I hope.
Future self does OK.
So I'm in a constant state of "unflux", I find myself being undone by living, by getting to the next day I lose a piece of myself that can't return and I have to accept what is left to work with. I knew this was coming, I didn't think it would be so soon though, I thought I had more time. It doesn't matter who it is I'm seeing in the mirror although I do recognize the face, someday someone may read this and understand just what it is I'm trying to say as they too see a older familiar face in their mirror.
All I can do is fine tune myself, engineer an advantage that others may not seek, eat for life, move for life, read to engage and stimulate mental gymnastics, find solace in mind and body and then hold on. Companionship will be "air", without it, death would be closer, faster, more certain, I would strangle in a void of lonesomeness.
I wonder what "future self" thinks about all of this, does he make the right decisions? Is he staring at the stars and sharing his thoughts with his love, is he happy with his progenies and theirs? Everything that I do today works towards that end. I believe I can manipulate parts if not all of that future, there is no destiny that I do not have a part in, nothing predetermined that I can't change to my advantage, my biggest enemy will be human nature, most likely my own, this is where I need help, protection from my own mistakes. I can't think of everything but I do know who can fill in what I miss. Her resume sports 20 years of experience in me, time well served I hope.
Future self does OK.
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