Category Archives: canines

High Five 4 Friday

i’m running out of clever ways to say “oh hey, it’s friday and it’s time for that link up.

soooooo it’s friday and it’s time for that link up.

1. it’s shark week.  which for me – means i can’t wait for fucking shark week to be over so i don’t have to hear people talk about it like they’ve always watched it when in reality we alllllll know you only started watching it after you saw step brothers.

2. i drank a bottle of champagne the other night.  this is the cap.

i don’t follow.  how do they i’m going to enjoy it?  


like smash the bottle and try to drink straight from it – jagged edges and all?  or are they referring to drinking and driving?  because i don’t do that.  i prefer drinking in the safety of my own home and not having to leave.  

champagne – you need to be more specific.

3.  at the risk of sounding like an obsessive freak i’m going to talk about invisible monsters again.  and it won’t be the last time either.  but i finished it.  and i bawled like a fucking baby.  because it is, by far, one of the most incredible books i have ever read.

4. this picture is pretty self-explanatory.  because if it doesn’t make your week you’re probably a fucking terrorist.

5. it’s this wise man’s 5th birthday.  hats off to you murphy lee.  you’re a gentleman and a scholar.

lastly, with the weekend upon us i’ve been thinking about the phrase “hot to trot.”  i don’t exactly know what it means but i assume that a lot of people will be drunkenly doing so this weekend.

so get out there with your hot to trot-ed-ness.


You’re Welcome

because how could these not make your shitty day at least one thousand times better?

meet trixie.  my best friend’s new puppy.
oh, and some giant beast of a friend trixie has.

that last one is too much.

 but it’s time to call it a day. 
fuck it.
have a drink.
and a puppy.

you deserve it.

High Five 4 Friday

fucking finally.

i hate being spoiled by weeks where there’s a holiday and then you’re forced to endure an ENTIRE work week.  life isn’t fair.

but at least there’s the weekly link up over at from my grey desk with lauren.

and here’s what i’m high-fiving.


1. snatch those ‘maters right from the vine.  big ups to shitler and his green thumb.  i can’t wait to eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

2. i am now violently obsessed with true blood.  

yes, i know, i am once again way behind.  

but i can’t stop watching.  and i’ve devised plans to make shitler leave the house on a nightly basis so i can get my fix.  except every time bill is on i get an overwhelming compulsion to just shut the fucking show off.  because he annoys the ever-loving shit out of me.  

this guy, on the other hand, does not.

3. this nut.  he kills me with this moronic behavior and stalker-like tendencies.  he is just all up in my business all the time.

4.  god.  chemistry cat gets me every time.

5. what ‘chu like.  a whole ‘lotta.  tyyyyyyrreeeeeeeeese.

i can’t stop listening.

don’t judge me.


Because You’re Only Cool If You Take Pictures Of Me Peeing In The Lake

in no particular order – this was my weekend.

aquatic mounting.

it’s like a chocolate turd

and i’m exhausted.

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Hairy Cleavage

i want to do something monumental tonight.  

like finish all the laundry that has accumulated in the basement.
or maybe eat a pound of bacon myself.
or paint a bookshelf.
or slay a mythical beast (preferably before eating the bacon as to avoid a stomach ache).
or create some sort of feast fit for a king.
or make an exact replica of mac out of cupcakes and skittles.
or watch every episode ever of true blood.

but we all know none of that will happen.  i’m just going to go to the gym, go home and shower my stink ass, and lay on the couch like a piece of shit.

which isn’t unlike any other night of my life.  
but yesterday i made these guys:

oh, and i did make two pounds of bacon.  so at least there’s that.  BUT, i didn’t put bacon in either of the above things.  which i wanted to do but then shitler was all “absolutely notand that right there is the exact reason his name isshitler.”  and i did go to the store yesterday and that in and of itself is a win because i at least left the house.  and as i was leaving shitler yelled “don’t even think about coming home without muffins and ice cream!”  whatever.

but other than getting bitch slapped by the vodka on saturday – the weekend was average.  i like to measure the delightfulness of my weekend based on amount of money spent v. how much fun was actually had v. how craptastic  i feel on sunday v. whether or not i have a residual hangover on monday.

all in all – i’d chalk this weekend up to a win.

he’s obsessed.

i lost count of the vodka shots.

i think that pup would make a great simba.

who doesn’t love free lake-side firework shows?

and lastly – how can you not take a picture of hairy cleavage?  lord knows i can’t resist.

happy hairy cleavage monday from me (and shitler) to you.

High Five 4 Friday


if you’re looking for a surefire way to get drunk please drink the following:

  • bota box of wine (it’s like a juice box.  only no juice.  only wine)
  • glass of rumchata
  • jager bomb
  • 2 glasses of boxed wine
  • shot of jager
  • a beer

so thank god it’s friday.  and i only have to work eight hours today.

here’s my link up for lauren’s high five 4 friday over at from my grey desk.

1. any glass of red wine.  seriously.

2. this cat.  because he might kill me.

3. 69’ing wedding bears at the $1 store.  they can’t help they like to fornicate in public.  and dabble in erotic asphyxiation.  

4. i have no words for my dog.  he is a fucking nut-bag.

5. ladies and gentleman – i have stuck with something for two.whole.weeks.  and oddly enough – it’s running.  which is the practically the worst thing in the world.  and if one more person asks me how awesome it is as i get used to it i will cram my fist down your throat.  because i hate it.  i hate every fucking minute of it.

so thank goodness it’s the weekend.  what’s on the docket?  more miserable running.  joy.

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Textual Feeling: Underpants Optional

if anyone wondered how long it took me to get to the gym from my place of employment, don’t worry, i timed myself today.  it takes me 3 1/3 “call me maybe” songs.

god, i love this song.

also, this happened today:

me: uhhh.  i got to work and realized i forgot to put on underwear.  so shitler has agreed to bring me a pair later.

b: what a sweetheart.  who forgets underwear?

me: sometimes i get confused in the morning.

b: it would appear so.

me: i just want some underpants before i go to the gym.  i’m worried i’ll chafe without them.

b: nobody likes chafing.

**five hours later**

me: i just got my underwear.

b: wow.  did he have to make it for you first?

me: i could only imagine if i got a pair he made.  it would be constructed out of some sort of burlap.

me: also, he pulled up in visitor parking which faces right into the conference room.  and instead of just handing me the underwear like a normal person he insisted on whipping them around in the air like some sort of lasso.  mind you – there was a meeting going on in the conference room at the time.  so i can only assume they were all privy to the show.

b: well, at least they had an entertaining meeting.


i picture this is how murphy lee would look reminding  me to put some damn underwear on in the morning:

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High Five 4 Friday

ever since i took a sabbatical from the restaurant i have fallen into the typical i’m-so-damn-giddy-because-it’s-friday category.  because i don’t have to fucking work.  it’s crazy.  not working a second job means i can actually do stuff.  or not do stuff.  which, who are we kidding, it’s usually the latter in my case. 

but here we are – it’s friday and i wouldn’t mind a high-fiving strangers i’m so excited.  why you ask?  because of the following delightful link up that i’ve recently started loving over at from my grey desk.

so here are the things i’m high-fiving.

1. going up north.  it’s happening this afternoon.  and it will be filled with nonsense, and books, and wine, and relaxing, and napping and i couldn’t be more excited about it.

i’m well aware that drinking and sharp objects don’t typically go well together.

2. this fool.  because the minute i get home i am the only thing he is all about.

3. asparagus.  seriously.  i’ve eating it almost every night this week and it just doesn’t get old.  neither does my smelly pee.  because i’m immature and i laugh hysterically every time i urinate.

4. in other green, shrubbery related news – the 1st sprouting of shitler’s tomato plants have arrived.

5. game. of. thrones.  because i’m obsessed.  and i have cashed almost all of season one and two in less than a week.  and it’s literally all i think about all day.  and when shitler tells me he’s going over to his friends i get giddy.  like beyond excited that i can bury myself in the couch in a cocoon of blankets and watch it for the next six hours without any judgement or bitching from shitler.

and in my defense i have learned a lot from game of thrones.
like the fact that the night is dark and filled with terror.
and that if you’re the mother of dragons people don’t fuck with you.
that eating the heart of a horse makes you strong.
that incest is totally okay.
that the lannisters always pay their debts.
that you can torture someone by putting a rat in a bucket, strapping said buck to someone’s chest, lighting the end of the bucket on fire and the rat will eat it’s way into your stomach in an effort to escape the heat – thus torturing.
that if shitler and i ever get another boat i’m going to name it “the sea bitch.”
and that i’m going to start sending messages via raven because i think it’s more dramatic and demands an immediate response (
like from the travel agent that’s been dicking me around for the last week.  an email is just so common nowadays but if a raven arrived and pecked at her window with a message she’d be like “this lady means business, i should get back to her.”).

and that’s that.  although i’ve been plotting the remainder of my day.  and i’m pretty positive i have time to squeeze in one more episode of game of thrones after i’m done with work and the gym and before we leave for up north.  enduring shitler’s wrath is totally worth it.  

because i’ve learned how to endure wrath from game of thrones.

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Sweet Solitude

first things first.

for the last month – murphy lee has smelled terrible.  so terrible that shitler took to calling him “dump dog.”
so this happened:

and someone wasn’t happy:

especially because this fucker kept swimming around like he wasn’t next:

but that is neither here nor there.  because i have fantastic news for myself.

this weekend will be the second weekend of my sabbatical from the restaurant and shitler will be out of town.


i’ve compiled a list of things i will be doing, making, and eating


why not.


find a pile of these.


something that shitler would not approve of.

watch this.

the odds of me getting all of those done is highly unlikely.  but a girl can dream, right?

i’m sure my weekend will be comprised mainly of drinking wine and watching movies that shitler mercilessly makes fun of me for wanting to see.

like underworld.
the latest one.  

which oddly enough will just depress me.  since i’ll be stuffing dessert stuffs in my face and watching kate beckinsale prance around in tight leather.  now i can’t focus because i’m too overcome with excitement.  and anticipation of kate in leather.   we’ll see how this weekend pans out.  

i don’t see it being anything short of glorious.

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Textual Feeling: See The Type of Bullshit I Have To Deal With

it’s been awhile since i’ve spotlighted the worthless textual conversations i have with b.  
so without further ado:

**while imbibing at the bar**

me: i made a new best friend in the bathroom.

b: whose your new bestie?  is she cute and single?

me: her name is emily.  and i don’t know.

b: so how did you two meet?

me: we peed in tandem.  and then i pointed out that her ID and money fell onto the floor and she declared her love for me.

b: that’s cute.  you could make a lifetime movie out of that story.

me: i’d watch it.

b: i’d put it on.  when i wanted to take a nap.

me: wow, i’d like to think my lifetime movie wouldn’t be sure a bore.

b: as a series, no.  but that one might be a snoozer.  mainly because i’m not in that one.

me: fine, i’ll make sure you miss the one with the lesbian action in it.

b: fuck that.  i will set my dvr for it.  that would be the one i wait all season for.

me: i will hack in and clear it.  then remove every other airing of that episode.

b: dream on.  you aren’t that ambitious.

me: or smart.

recently i made the mistake of leaving a conversation about serial killers to go to the bathroom and when i came back the conversation had shifted to adoption.  

i’ll never make that mistake again.

the following conversation occurred during said terrible conversation:

me: i’m going to blow my fucking brains out.  this conversation is slowly killing me.

b: please don’t do that tonight.  at least let me video tape it for research purposes.

me: what’s there to research?

b: brains may look cool splattered on the wall.  it could be saleable artwork.

me: oh, good call.  what would you call that piece of art?  “the cunt.”

b: “cunt for brains.”

b: it’s really a working title.

me: i like it.

and in case you’re offended and/or don’t like filthy language here’s a picture of my cute-ish, idiot dog fighting a sleep attack.

i hope we’re even.