As many of you may know by now, my beloved bulldog, Winston, recently started his own blog. There is a good reason for this… he’s a freaking terror. Yet, for some reason, I have become so attached to this little mongrel that I just can’t get rid of him, and trust me, I’ve had a few opportunities.
This blog would probably be better on “his” blog but honestly, I couldn’t think of anything else to blog about for myself and there are plenty of ideas left for his project.
The other day, as I was playing around the house, I made my way back to my bedroom. Because of Winston, my bedroom door stays closed at all times so that I can keep track of his where-abouts when he is inside. So as I reached to turn the knob and open the door, it didn’t take long at all to realize something was missing….the door knob.
I later found the darned thing, thank goodness because I did not want to be around to see the outcome of how THAT got digested, but I’m perplexed. How in the world did my dog figure out how to twist the door knob off the door? Has he evolved to have opposable thumbs?
I prefer to think that there has to be some brilliant explanation for why my dog makes my life miserable. Perhaps he is actually a super hero dog. What? Underdog did it!
What about you? Do you have a story to tell of extreme extraordinary pet talents?
I spent the day with Amelia today (which in an effort to make that sound less crazy means that I had a lot of time to myself today and got some thinking done!). Despite her crass nature, she and I had a pretty good conversation and it got me to thinking- I’ve posted blogs here, and Amelia has posted blogs here, but we’ve never done a blog together, why not try something new for a change?
So the best that I could come up with on such short notice was an interview with Amelia.
Me: Amelia, you and I had a pretty productive day today, neither one of us got on each other’s nerves too much and we did everything we set out to do.
Amelia: If you’re trying to figure out why I never pushed you out of the car earlier it’s because I don’t know how to drive, don’t get too cocky on me.
Me: Well, I’m afraid that’s what settles for nice with you so I’ll take it! Now, I was wondering, I was away from the blog for a little while but I had good explanation as to why. Where were you at all the time that I was gone, you could have taken up the slack for me.
Amelia: Now why in Heaven’s name would I waste my time doing such a thing? You know good and well that the only reason I ever show up is because you poke and prod at me long enough that I just get sick of hearing your jibber jabber and give in. Do you honestly think that I blog on your blog because I enjoy it?
Me: Well, I never asked you to start blogging, you just sort of showed up one day.
Amelia: And let me tell you something else missy, you should be paying me some sort of royalties or something, writing of my caliber doesn’t come cheap, people pay me good money to write for them!
Me: Alright, fine, fine, let’s just talk about something else shall we?
Amelia: Yes, what about that giant pig looking thing that walks around your house. What do you call him? Winston? Why in the world does he have his own blog now? Do you honestly think people are stupid enough to think that he has evolved and grown opposable thumbs and learned to type? Oh, wait, we are talking about YOUR readers, none of them are all that smart!
Amelia: Ha-ha…they know I was joking.
Me: Well, if you must know, I think it’s cute that Winston has his own blog, he really has a lot to say, he’s really quite a vibrant personality, why shouldn’t he be able to express himself?
Amelia: “Be able to express yourself”, is he gay?
Me: What in the world are you talking about?
Amelia: Every time I hear someone say “I want to express myself” the next thing that comes out of their mouth is “Mom, Dad, I’m gay.”
Me: That’s not true, that’s very rude of you to say, take it back.
Me: Sigh, I can see this isn’t going where I want it to, perhaps we should try this again sometime?
Amelia: Sure, I need more time to prepare rude remarks about you and your readers.
There is a very common phrase that says, “There is a thin line between genius and insanity.” It is, in essence, saying that if we were to map genius and insanity, they would be Canada and the United States. Albert Einstein and Charles Manson would be close enough to touch, but still not quite in the same territory, with Einstein focusing on what M might equal and Manson focusing on homicidal messages in Beatles songs. I guess they would be unlikely to grab a Pumpkin Chai latte together, but there is a chance they might end up at the same Starbucks.
There are a lot of phrases like this that are just stupid. A dog might be a man’s best friend, but that is a very sad man. If it “ain’t” broke, I won’t fix it, but I probably couldn’t fix it if it was broken. Sure, it isn’t over until the fat lady sings, but what if she is slow getting there? She is, after all, very over weight. I would imagine she moves very slowly and a lot of things end before she starts singing.
While those may be stupid nonsense phrases, there really is a thin line between genius and insanity. This is just a dumb phrase, it is a fact of life.
For example, look at Christopher Columbus. Now, we all know that this man was brave enough to take three ships the WRONGdirection to India just to prove that the world was round. Believing the world was round in that time put you in the vast minority. For realizing that the world was round, we have awarded him with his own holiday, basically saying that this man was a genius for having the foresight to listen to actual scientists about the Earth’s shape.
What if the Earth had been flat, though? We would sit around telling the story of that moron who sailed off the edge of the planet because he thought it was round.
“What an idiot,” we would say. “What a big stupid moron. What kind of sane person would think the world was round? Man, I am so glad I’m not as dumb as that stupid Christopher Columbus.”
Sure, he turned out to be right. (About the shape of the planet. He was totally wrong about where India was, but that’s a completely different story.) He could just have easily, though, fallen off of the planet and plummeted to the bottom of the universe, splatting on the universe floor and leaving a mess for the universe to mop up.
The line, though, has not gotten any wider in recent years.
Imagine for a second I walk up to you and say the following: “I have a million dollar idea. Why don’t we take some blankets and sew sleeves on them?” Your gut reaction would be to smack me upside the head, call me names, and continue to berate me until I cried. You would probably hold that urge inside and just tell me this was an insane idea. No one would ever buy sleeved blankets except maybe mental patients.
Well, guess again muchacho. By 2009, a little company named Snuggie had made $40 million off of the insane idea of sleeved blankets. It turns out people really like their blankets to have sleeves. They also like to buy crappy presents for people, thus the marketplace was primed for genius product like Snuggies. What seemed insane was actually a stroke of brilliance.
Since this line is now a proven fact, I have been trying to figure out where I’m at. Am I on the genius side or the insane side? Maybe I’m not even near the line. Maybe I’m all the way over there in an area named “boring and obnoxious” and I’ll never be near the genius/coocoo for cocoa puffs line.
I do know one thing for sure, though. I may not be near the line. I may not even be on the same planet as the line. The line may be a completely foreign concept that I will never, ever encounter in my life.
With that said, though, I have approximately 8,000 ideas a day. Each and every one of those ideas are less insane than the Snuggie.
Seriously, guys. A blanket with sleeves. Good work, you nutjobs.
President of Kraft Foods North America also Nabisco Foods
From: A girl who can now die happy
The purpose of this memo is to let you know just how thankful I am to you. See, you have allowed me to answer one of those questions that many of us go through life never knowing the answer to.
“What question are you referring to?” you ask, well it’s quite simple. I know exactly how, when, and where I will die.
It wasn’t until the other day when I was walking through my local grocery store, “accidentally” perusing the cookie aisle that I came across it. It was simple and innocent looking enough, in fact, I thought about passing it up more than once because I just didn’t see how it could change my life.
I’m talking, of course, about your newest flavor of Oreos. Oh Mr. Vernon, who was the brilliant mastermind behind this one? I have to admit, at first glance I looked at the packaging and said “Pish, posh, Cookies and Cream Oreos? That’s OVERKILL!” I even dismissed it because I felt that it might be a little too much. Little did I know that with my final decision to go ahead and give the cookies a try was I figuratively typing my death sentence.
I took the little time bombs home, packed them away until finally my curiosity got the best of me.
Two Oreos at a time has always been my limit. I grabbed two, ate them, and immediately found myself dashing back to the kitchen for “just two more”. I did this until an entire row of cookies was demolished. Feeling a bit ashamed I promised myself that I would not touch the cookies at all for the rest of the week.
The next morning as I was polishing off the third breakfast Oreo I shrugged my shoulders and gave in. Rather than be angry at myself for falling for this little trick, I found it somewhat rewarding that I now knew I was destined for the best death that money can buy.
Can you honestly think of a better way to go than death by Oreo?
What’s up? It’s been a hot minute (one month and 5 days to be exact!) It’s been a pretty crazy month or so, so much stuff going on.
I’ll be brief in my re-cap:
Fireworks: For as long as I can remember, my family has run a fireworks stand come every Fourth of July and again for New Years Eve. In fact, this past season marked 26 years meaning they started this whole adventure when I was only three years old. So it’s pretty much been a part of me my entire life. I know a completely different world of fireworks from most people. For the most part, it’s fun, I have a boundless supply of explosives at my disposal pretty much all year and, considering I’m a bit of a pyro-maniac, that’s pretty cool.
It’s also a bit of a nuisance. For two to three weeks a year I pretty much have no life whatsoever. First of all, the stand sits in my father’s front yard because at the time that we started my parents were still married and it made so much more sense to put the stand in an easily accessible place. Understandable however, I now live over 300 miles away from my father’s house. I’ve learned to spend my summers in a cramped motel room with my mother for two weeks.
Now if you know anything about me at all, you know that I’m not much of a people person. I would much rather choose the life of a hermit than an out going, social butterfly. And though it IS my mother, someone I know and am comfortable with, at the same time, it is my MOTHER and, God knows I love her dearly but, she drives me INSANE. And it’s not even the fact that it’s my mother, it could be anyone, if I have to spend more than 12 hours straight with any single person, I’m pretty likely to go all Mount Vesuvius on that person before it’s over with!
To make things better, the day before we left I stepped off the porch steps, just as I have done every day of my life, and for whatever reason my ankle decided that it just didn’t want to work at the moment and down I went. It’s been almost a month and the darn thing is still swollen but luckily I was able to walk on it pretty soon…that would have been a disaster had I not been able to go to fireworks this year!
The Wonderful World of New Mexico: Four days after getting home from fireworks, the boy and I took a four day trip to New Mexico.
I’ve been before but I was very young and quite honestly, I learned quickly that the state was nothing like I had portrayed it to be in my memory. I remember it being much like west Texas, dry, dirty, ugly, not much to look at and don’t get me wrong; part of the state IS that way. But the first night we drove into Ruidoso and I was instantly in love. I seriously wish I had the money to just pack up and move there right this very moment. It’s such a charming little town and of course staying in a log cabin way up in the mountains definitely has its appeal. One of my absolute favorite parts of the trip was waking up in the morning, taking the trash out and looking up to see a giant bull elk standing about thirty yards away without a care in the world.
Something else I learned about this quaint little town is that it still lives by the old rules of yesteryear. Pretty much everything, including convenience stores and Walgreens which we take for granted to be open 24/7, closes around 9pm. We went to eat at an amazing little Italian restaurant and when we asked what time they closed the waitress just shrugged her shoulders and said “I think we are going to try to close about 8:30 tonight”
What? You don’t have a set time to close? You just close when you feel like it? My how wonderful to live and work in such a carefree atmosphere.
The second day found us winding through the mountains of Cloudcroft; an even more relaxed and beautiful little town. We eventually came back the next day and hiked up one of the mountains, something I’ve never done but always wanted to do. We eventually moved down to the Alamogordo area where we visited White Sands, which I have to admit was WAY cooler than I had ever expected.
We finished the trip up with a visit to Carlsbad where we went to the Living Desert Museum and Zoo and of course a visit to the caverns.
I was so very thankful for a bit of a break from reality. For four entire days I never once thought about bills or stressful work situations. It was the most amazing four days I’ve had in a long time!
I guess all good things have to come to an end eventually. I’m starting to get back into the normal routine of things. By now I guess you’re probably wondering what in the world the title of this post has to do with anything that I’ve said.
I’ve mentioned my dear, sweet, lovable Olde English Bulldogge Winston, on a couple occasions in the past. For quite sometime, Winston has been a very popular subject of entertainment amongst my friends and Facebook followers. If you’ve ever read or watched “Marley and Me” you will understand what I mean when I say that Winston is an “Extreme Marley”, in fact, he pretty much makes Marley look like the best, most well behaved dog ever to walk yet, for some reason, I continue to love this dog.
I was really putting this off, more for the reason that I hoped he would eventually grow out of it but seeing as he will be two in September and hasn’t changed much at all, I figure I might as well begin documenting his lovely, spunky, careless, clumsy behavior. So I’ve decided to create a blog for Winston.
Go check it out;(I haven’t made it pretty yet, I’ll work on it thought!) I think the first blog entry will make it pretty obvious where I got the idea for the title of this post and blog!