5/14/07

24 is on in ten.

I did something bad to a tendon in the back of my hand, so I can't touch-type very well.

I've been balls to the wall for the last two weeks doing freelance graphic design work at night.

I mentioned that my next post would be about my pets, and I have a lot of ex-pets to write about, however it's gonna be a few days. If anyone else out there has any good dead pet stories, lay'em on me. Maybe it'll pry a few more stories loose from the nooks and crannies of my mind.

What I'm saying here is that I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel. It might very well be a topless Rosie O'Donnell wearing a miner's helmet and a thong, but at this point I'll take what I can get.

I'll leave you with this, and let you fill in the blanks:



Yeah, I just grossed myself out a little bit there.

16 comments:

  1. Anonymous10:32 PM

    Okay, a dead pet story. We had this dog, Tana. My husband got her from the North Shore Animal League on Long Island before he ever met me, and she definitely considered me an interloper in the family. But I have to admit, she was the smartest dog I've ever met. You could see her sit and look at at situation and reason it through in a way that dog's aren't supposed to be able to master. The joke in the household became that she wasn't actually a dog, she was an alien in a dog suit sent to observe mankind and someday the mothership was coming back for her.

    So, you remember a few years back when there was that comet swinging by and all those freaks out in California offed themselves because the mothership was hiding in its tail, coming to take them home? You guessed it, that's when Tana kicked. I'm still a little freaked.

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  2. Why oh why did you have to make her topless? Ugghhhh...

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  3. topless and in a thong.

    so. so. so. wrong.

    dead pets? when I was about 11, we were traveling across country once with a bassett hound and my brothers pet gerbils. Only one gerbil made it to the left coast.
    There was much basset hound rejoicing and some crunching somewhere in Iowa.

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  4. Thanks, just what I need, that Rosie image in my mind al day.

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  5. My favorite dead pet story was when I lived in New Orleans in an apartment complex. Warning.. slightly graphic.

    We had a few hamsters which became a lot of hamsters. I was outside on my patio cleaning out the cages when a little kid came by and wanted one of the hamsters. I told him he had to ask his mom first, and he shortly returned saying it was fine. I put one of the little rodents in one of those balls they can run around in and sent him on his way.

    Fast forward hours 4 or 5 hours. The boy comes back with the hamster still in the ball and says "my mom won't let me keep it". I notice the hamster isn't moving around and rather than alarm the child I just say "ok" and take it.

    Inside the ball was the hamster, only he sort of.. umm.. popped. I can only guess that the boy left him in the ball and was outside all day. Mind you it was a 90+ degree day. So the rat just boiled in the clear plastic ball for 4 hours while the kid wandered about with him.

    I can just imagine the looks he might have gotten if he was showing off his new pet.

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  6. "Rosie O'Donnell" and "thong" should never be uttered in the same sentence... that's a visual I can't get out of my head. Thanks JV. :(

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  7. ooo you should add michael moore's gaping vagina to the whole scene. that'd be awesome.

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  8. whoa. that just spilled out. perhaps i crossed a line.

    please replace the word gaping with ratty.

    thanks.

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  9. Hey, sorry about your hand. That'll put a cramp in one's blogging, fo sho.

    No really good dead pet story here - but I did kill something on the highway this weekend and it's really f'd up the undercarriage of my car, since it got all tangled up in there and cooked for a few more hours of 70 mph driving. Does that count as a dead pet story?

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  10. If it was a dog or cat, then it was someone's dead pet story.

    Crystal, I can see you're also a fan of the man.

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  11. EEWW. Johnny. Gew.

    Upstate- What are you going to get a blog? You're funny, think about it.

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  12. Ok so I ran over my Dads dog when I was 16 and he picked it up as it was dying and started crying and yelling her name over and over.

    He's sort of not the crying type so it kind of sucked.

    Sorry you asked.

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  13. I have too many dead pet stories. I grew up on a farm. Cats who decide to stay warm by wrapping themselves around a car engine. Dogs who chase the school bus. Jerks in big trucks who purposely run over a dog in our driveway. Cows who get sick while trying to give birth.

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  14. Anonymous5:46 PM

    Does an aborted fetus in the freezer count as a 'dead pet'?

    If not, I have a perfect tangy garlic sauce for the BBQ on Friday. BYOB.

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  15. Anonymous2:22 PM

    One evening when I was 13 (30+ years ago) I was babysitting my 2 brothers and 1 sister (10, 6 and 2 respectively) while my parents went to the movies. When I answered a knock on the door, a neighbor/family friend from around the corner said he thought someone hit our cat and that it was laying on the side of the road in front of his house. The four of us began crying; and my 10 year old brother went to see if it was ours. Five minutes later, he came back with a large green trash bag with the obviously dead cat in it, and put it in the garage so we could have a funeral for it the next day. The telephone rang and it was grandma looking for mom. After hearing our story and hearing the kids crying in the background, gram and gramp were on their way over to be with us. Five minutes after hanging up from them, it rang again. It was my aunt looking again for mom; and after hearing our story and the crying, she and my uncle were also on their way over. Soon after they all got to our house, my parents came home and were surprised to see visiting relatives with the 4 of us kids crying our eyes out. About an hour later, they all decided to go home and upon opening the door and saying our good-byes, in scoots our cat between all our legs. Needless to say, the next morning, we dug a hole in the woods at the end of our street and buried someone else's dead cat.

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