Dear Email Folks,
We bought a new harness collar so we could take Annie for long walks to spend some of her energy. The collar was too big, so I made new holes in the strap. It took three people five minutes to get it on her - one to hold her down, one to hold her mouth closed, and one to strap it around her while she was laying on it. When I came home from work today she had managed to get it off and she gnawed the strap in half. It is irreparable. No harness, no walks.
I let Annie out of jail at 6:00 this morning, and she immediately bolted toward the bedroom. My husband was asleep in bed when Annie body slammed him and landed her wet, muddy feet on his stomach. I heard my husband “UMPH!” as the breath was knocked out of him. She was biting his head before he recovered. Annie was in trouble with the law again. Back to jail she went where she whined for an hour. She doesn't understand why no one wants to play and bite so early in the morning.
I've gotta go for now. Annie just fell out of the bathtub when she got tangled up in the shower curtain.
Spressy
Annie’s Collar
Hi Spressy!! :O)
Have you ever considered using a net? Or maybe letting her out to chase the garbage men at 4 a.m. By the time she wanders home you'll just be getting up, and Annie will have had her fill of biting and playing. I'm not sure how the garbage guys will take it, but tell them if they can get the harness on her, you'll take her for a real walk. Keep trying!!
Kurlikew :O)
FROM: Alva@stateofmind.com
SENT: July 29, 1999 4:28 PM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Annie’s Collar
That Annie is a troublemaker! But I don't understand why the 6:00 in the morning play is a problem. Doesn't everyone like to play with a wet, muddy dog in the wee hours of the morning?
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Writing While Intoxicated
A freelance writer uses the five Ws and good humor to show how a little alcohol can enhance your writing and creativity
WWI. No, I’m not referring to World War I. WWI means Writing While Intoxicated.
Why not write while you’re enjoying a little buzz? People say some of the funniest things when they are drunk. Some of the greatest philosophies were born in a Manhattan stupor. Me? Well, I have attempted to solve all the world’s problems after drinking a few imported beers. So, I figure an inebriated state of being might as well be put to good use.
There should be some parameters regarding this undertaking, I suppose. Let’s begin with a preparatory paragraph and go with the five W’s of any great article: who, what, when, where and why. And, just to show you a good example of a well-organized paper, I’ll make sure I give a clear opening, informative body and strong summary to close.
Preparation
Once intoxicated, you will probably feel inspired so make sure you have pen and paper handy before you pop the top of your favorite beverage. Otherwise, you will be writing your sex sermon on the beach on whatever scraps of paper you can scrounge up—a menu, a napkin, an envelope, or the back of a grocery receipt (probably the one from the market where you bought your “WWI supplies”). I’ve even written on a chewing gum wrapper when a moment of creativity arose without warning. If you are writing while intoxicated at your computer, you may find your fingers are quite clumsy and that remembering your passwords is difficult when you try to lager on. Still, this option may work well for those who shouldn’t be handling sharp objects like a pencil or a Screwdriver.
Who to Drink with While You Write
Who you drink and write with is important. You want someone you can trust, who will not divulge the secrets of your screenplay or plagiarize your novel once the two of you are sober. Since you probably won’t remember what you said while intoxicated, writing while drinking can be useful the next day when your best friend says you listed all your past lovers after a couple rounds of Jello shots. A written record is good, but make sure that whatever you write ends up in your pocket when the evening ends.
What to Drink While You Write
Despite the fact that each of us has a favorite drink, it is important to know how you are personally affected by certain types of alcohol. Tequila makes me silly. Rum makes me angry. Beer makes me have to pee. Wine makes me sleepy. If Whiskey makes you sour, stay away from it. If a martini makes you feel dirty, write romance or soft porn. If a cola makes you hyper, stick with that and forego the morning-after headache. Choose your beverage according to the task at hand.
When to Drink and Write
It doesn’t matter whether you plan to WWI in the day or at night. It is always five o’clock somewhere in Margaritaville. However, preparation is necessary, especially in Tennessee where the liquor stores are closed all day on Sunday and the grocery stores can’t sell beer until after the clock strikes noon on the Western-modified Sabbath. The distillery that makes Jack Daniels is located in a dry county. Therefore, you will need to get the ingredients for your cocktail ahead of time. It’s no comfort, Southern or otherwise, to be caught without proper equipment.
Where to Drink and Write
Do you want to be drunk in public or in private? I always opt for private encounters with my drunken muse. Oh, yes. The muse gets drunk when you do. You don’t want to be doing the backseat boogie with a stranger in a cab on the way home. I certainly do not suggest you attempt to drive soon after you’ve been drinking and writing. I don’t advise you to write and drive either. I’ve seen people to do this. You can get pulled over for driving while writing on a used tissue.
Why to Drink and Write
A glass or two of wine can blur the edges of reality allowing you to color outside the proverbial lines without being anal about doing it wrong. Or, in our case as writers, we can write outside the margins and completely off the page when we are less inhibited.
Creativity emerges when we’re not worried about editing or being edited.
A limitation on libation should be enforced if you want writing that is legible. Too many shooters and you’ll be up the creek without a Maiden’s Prayer. Although writing while drinking is a great tonic for keeping your gin up, you should drink responsibly and write responsively.
If you liked this article, please share it on del.icio.us, StumbleUpon or Digg. I’d appreciate it.
WWI. No, I’m not referring to World War I. WWI means Writing While Intoxicated.
Why not write while you’re enjoying a little buzz? People say some of the funniest things when they are drunk. Some of the greatest philosophies were born in a Manhattan stupor. Me? Well, I have attempted to solve all the world’s problems after drinking a few imported beers. So, I figure an inebriated state of being might as well be put to good use.
There should be some parameters regarding this undertaking, I suppose. Let’s begin with a preparatory paragraph and go with the five W’s of any great article: who, what, when, where and why. And, just to show you a good example of a well-organized paper, I’ll make sure I give a clear opening, informative body and strong summary to close.
Preparation
Once intoxicated, you will probably feel inspired so make sure you have pen and paper handy before you pop the top of your favorite beverage. Otherwise, you will be writing your sex sermon on the beach on whatever scraps of paper you can scrounge up—a menu, a napkin, an envelope, or the back of a grocery receipt (probably the one from the market where you bought your “WWI supplies”). I’ve even written on a chewing gum wrapper when a moment of creativity arose without warning. If you are writing while intoxicated at your computer, you may find your fingers are quite clumsy and that remembering your passwords is difficult when you try to lager on. Still, this option may work well for those who shouldn’t be handling sharp objects like a pencil or a Screwdriver.
Who to Drink with While You Write
Who you drink and write with is important. You want someone you can trust, who will not divulge the secrets of your screenplay or plagiarize your novel once the two of you are sober. Since you probably won’t remember what you said while intoxicated, writing while drinking can be useful the next day when your best friend says you listed all your past lovers after a couple rounds of Jello shots. A written record is good, but make sure that whatever you write ends up in your pocket when the evening ends.
What to Drink While You Write
Despite the fact that each of us has a favorite drink, it is important to know how you are personally affected by certain types of alcohol. Tequila makes me silly. Rum makes me angry. Beer makes me have to pee. Wine makes me sleepy. If Whiskey makes you sour, stay away from it. If a martini makes you feel dirty, write romance or soft porn. If a cola makes you hyper, stick with that and forego the morning-after headache. Choose your beverage according to the task at hand.
When to Drink and Write
It doesn’t matter whether you plan to WWI in the day or at night. It is always five o’clock somewhere in Margaritaville. However, preparation is necessary, especially in Tennessee where the liquor stores are closed all day on Sunday and the grocery stores can’t sell beer until after the clock strikes noon on the Western-modified Sabbath. The distillery that makes Jack Daniels is located in a dry county. Therefore, you will need to get the ingredients for your cocktail ahead of time. It’s no comfort, Southern or otherwise, to be caught without proper equipment.
Where to Drink and Write
Do you want to be drunk in public or in private? I always opt for private encounters with my drunken muse. Oh, yes. The muse gets drunk when you do. You don’t want to be doing the backseat boogie with a stranger in a cab on the way home. I certainly do not suggest you attempt to drive soon after you’ve been drinking and writing. I don’t advise you to write and drive either. I’ve seen people to do this. You can get pulled over for driving while writing on a used tissue.
Why to Drink and Write
A glass or two of wine can blur the edges of reality allowing you to color outside the proverbial lines without being anal about doing it wrong. Or, in our case as writers, we can write outside the margins and completely off the page when we are less inhibited.
Creativity emerges when we’re not worried about editing or being edited.
A limitation on libation should be enforced if you want writing that is legible. Too many shooters and you’ll be up the creek without a Maiden’s Prayer. Although writing while drinking is a great tonic for keeping your gin up, you should drink responsibly and write responsively.
If you liked this article, please share it on del.icio.us, StumbleUpon or Digg. I’d appreciate it.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Annie’s Bath
Dear Email Episodians,
There’s nothing quite like trying to bathe two dogs at a time. It was Indy's turn to go first but Annie cut her off and jumped in the bathtub ahead of her as the water was running. The water was a little warm, which is just the way the little Shitzhu, likes it. Annie started dancing the Cha-cha-cha trying to keep her paws cool. He didn’t have a clue what was causing her discomfort.
I got little old Indy wet and lathered, and Annie (the big Weimaraner) helped by licking the shampoo from Indy's head. I finally got both dogs bathed, and I wanted to blow dry Indy. She loves to get up on the bathroom counter to be groomed. It's her spa treatment or therapy. Annie, the big galoof, wanted to be on the countertop with her. Annie is afraid of the blow dryer, and kept biting at it while I was drying Indy. Annie did get up on the counter in spite of my efforts to shoo her away with the blow dryer. Her tail knocked stuff off the counter while she tried to bite the sink stopper out of the drain.
I made the mistake of letting the dogs, one partly dry and the other very wet, out of the bathroom at the same time. Indy started toward the kitchen for her doggie treat. Annie raced past her and body-slammed the sofa chair. The chair came up off its front feet and nearly tipped over backwards. Annie didn’t even touch the floor before she leaped on the sofa. She hit it so hard the wall behind it shook. Without slowing down she jumped over the coffee table, and started chasing Indy, who took cover under the piano stool. Annie, not realizing she wouldn’t fit under it, made a beeline for the stool. She carried the stool on her back for three steps before it turned over spilling sheet music everywhere. This dog is a wild woman! Anyone want a Weimaraner?
Expressy
FROM: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SENT: July 26, 1999 11:22 AM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Annie’s Bath
I think I'll stick to my cats. At least when they body slam the furniture it doesn't rock the house, AND they bathe themselves :O)
FROM: Alva@stateofmind.com
SENT: July 27, 1999 9:34 AM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Annie’s Bath
Oh, how I can relate!! My crazy beagle puppy also body slams the furniture after his bath causing a mini-puddle right in the middle of the sofa.
There’s nothing quite like trying to bathe two dogs at a time. It was Indy's turn to go first but Annie cut her off and jumped in the bathtub ahead of her as the water was running. The water was a little warm, which is just the way the little Shitzhu, likes it. Annie started dancing the Cha-cha-cha trying to keep her paws cool. He didn’t have a clue what was causing her discomfort.
I got little old Indy wet and lathered, and Annie (the big Weimaraner) helped by licking the shampoo from Indy's head. I finally got both dogs bathed, and I wanted to blow dry Indy. She loves to get up on the bathroom counter to be groomed. It's her spa treatment or therapy. Annie, the big galoof, wanted to be on the countertop with her. Annie is afraid of the blow dryer, and kept biting at it while I was drying Indy. Annie did get up on the counter in spite of my efforts to shoo her away with the blow dryer. Her tail knocked stuff off the counter while she tried to bite the sink stopper out of the drain.
I made the mistake of letting the dogs, one partly dry and the other very wet, out of the bathroom at the same time. Indy started toward the kitchen for her doggie treat. Annie raced past her and body-slammed the sofa chair. The chair came up off its front feet and nearly tipped over backwards. Annie didn’t even touch the floor before she leaped on the sofa. She hit it so hard the wall behind it shook. Without slowing down she jumped over the coffee table, and started chasing Indy, who took cover under the piano stool. Annie, not realizing she wouldn’t fit under it, made a beeline for the stool. She carried the stool on her back for three steps before it turned over spilling sheet music everywhere. This dog is a wild woman! Anyone want a Weimaraner?
Expressy
FROM: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SENT: July 26, 1999 11:22 AM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Annie’s Bath
I think I'll stick to my cats. At least when they body slam the furniture it doesn't rock the house, AND they bathe themselves :O)
FROM: Alva@stateofmind.com
SENT: July 27, 1999 9:34 AM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Annie’s Bath
Oh, how I can relate!! My crazy beagle puppy also body slams the furniture after his bath causing a mini-puddle right in the middle of the sofa.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Free Download of a Humorous Book
I went on vacation
to California
in the summer
in the heat
of the desert.
I was out of my head
while out of my office
and away from my PC
with only a laptop...and olives.
I wore high hells (I mean heels)
on the city street
going to a restaurant
to eat dinner
with my husband
who got me into this mess.
That's a lot of prepositional phrases, but you'll understand when you download the PDF of my free humorous e-book about Yvonne's trip to California.
to California
in the summer
in the heat
of the desert.
I was out of my head
while out of my office
and away from my PC
with only a laptop...and olives.
I wore high hells (I mean heels)
on the city street
going to a restaurant
to eat dinner
with my husband
who got me into this mess.
That's a lot of prepositional phrases, but you'll understand when you download the PDF of my free humorous e-book about Yvonne's trip to California.
Monday, May 18, 2009
New Cookbook
This happened in another life time, another era, another decade--another century, even.
Chefs, Bakers, and Patty Cakers,
I got a new cookbook for $5.00 at the store last week. What a deal! So far it has cost me an additional $94 in groceries and a trip to the liquor store, and we still don’t have a loaf of bread in the house. Fancy cooking requires fancy ingredients. My Daughter’s birthday is next week and she wants me to make the grasshopper cake for her. She and I went to 3 groceries stores looking for white crème de cacao and green crème de menthe. One person at Kroger told us we could buy it at Dairy Queen. I may be naïve but even I knew better than that! Finally someone told us that you have to buy the crèmes at the liquor store. What kind of state is this? You can buy wine in the grocery store in others states. Tennessee has the buckle of the Bible belt strapped a little too tight. I’d never been in a liquor store in my life, but I managed to find a tiny bottle of green stuff that looks like mouthwash and a bottle of clear elixir rated at 60-proof, each costing 7 bucks! We’ll see how it turns out. We may end up drunk in the process. Being drunk sounds like a positive escape for the weary would-be-chefs.
Well, on top of all the other projects we have going on around the house, My Husband decided we needed to tear out the old deck and enlarge it. Yes, it was pretty dilapidated, but the last thing I needed right now was to have the first step out the back door become a 10-foot drop off into the rose bushes. We have the structure framed out, but we’ll have to wait for the next paycheck to put a floor on it. Meanwhile, I pulled the dining room chairs in front of the door, so I wouldn’t get up in the night and drop the blind dog off a cliff.
(1999)
Chefs, Bakers, and Patty Cakers,
I got a new cookbook for $5.00 at the store last week. What a deal! So far it has cost me an additional $94 in groceries and a trip to the liquor store, and we still don’t have a loaf of bread in the house. Fancy cooking requires fancy ingredients. My Daughter’s birthday is next week and she wants me to make the grasshopper cake for her. She and I went to 3 groceries stores looking for white crème de cacao and green crème de menthe. One person at Kroger told us we could buy it at Dairy Queen. I may be naïve but even I knew better than that! Finally someone told us that you have to buy the crèmes at the liquor store. What kind of state is this? You can buy wine in the grocery store in others states. Tennessee has the buckle of the Bible belt strapped a little too tight. I’d never been in a liquor store in my life, but I managed to find a tiny bottle of green stuff that looks like mouthwash and a bottle of clear elixir rated at 60-proof, each costing 7 bucks! We’ll see how it turns out. We may end up drunk in the process. Being drunk sounds like a positive escape for the weary would-be-chefs.
Well, on top of all the other projects we have going on around the house, My Husband decided we needed to tear out the old deck and enlarge it. Yes, it was pretty dilapidated, but the last thing I needed right now was to have the first step out the back door become a 10-foot drop off into the rose bushes. We have the structure framed out, but we’ll have to wait for the next paycheck to put a floor on it. Meanwhile, I pulled the dining room chairs in front of the door, so I wouldn’t get up in the night and drop the blind dog off a cliff.
(1999)
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Poopy puppy
This is from 1999, but it's still funny.
Dear Animal Lovers,
Okay, I admit it. A new puppy was NOT a good idea. We called the place we bought her last night to see what we are doing wrong. They are convinced that Weimaraners are smart animals, and can learn if you discipline them. My house is still a mess, and we have worn out the Sunday paper whacking that dog for chewing on Indy and the furniture. She thinks it’s a game. We must be dumb parents. I failed the Human Parenting 101 class at church one time, why should I expect to pass Dog Parenting 202? She’s a fun dog, but she consumes a lot of time and energy that I don’t have to give.
I took both dogs to the vet today. I strapped Annie’s harness to the seatbelt in the back and put the old, blind dog (Indy) in the front with me. Indy peed in her seat and wanted to sit in my lap while I was driving. I guess she didn’t want to get her butt wet. It took two vet assistants to get both dogs out of the car and into the building. Waiting in that small treatment room was a trip without luggage. Indy gets nervous at the vet because she can’t see what’s going on. She likes to be held while she shakes. Annie was jealous and kept biting at her. Blind dog got mad and snapped at Annie. She missed and almost bit ME. Annie got her puppy booster shot today. The vet gave her a pawdicure. Perhaps trimming her nails will be less damaging for our possessions. They also cleaned her ears. Maybe her inability to obey was because she couldn’t hear. I asked them for a prescription to help her stop gnawing the furniture. They said there was nothing they could do. She’s simply hard of minding. She has chewed the corner of the coffee table, and torn a hole in the skirt of the side chair. The antique end table she chewed is now on top of her kennel. Trying to write a check was a Candid Camera event. It felt like my pen was in a Spirograph. The dogs were going around and around my legs, and I kept turning in circles trying to unwrap myself. Can dogs be put on Ritalin?
I saw photos of the Oklahoma bombing on TV. It reminded me of our living room after Annie has been out of her cage for 10 minutes. Our Weimaraner puppy is 16 weeks old today. Life is a game. She keeps landing on “go directly to jail, do not pass go, and do not collect $200.” Yep, her avenue is parked in her jail cell (kennel), right this moment and she’s barking for the warden. Perhaps she can be paroled after supper if she promises not to jump and hump on Indy.
Last night Annie decided to give herself a bath. I heard her lapping water and thought she was drinking from the toilet again. I walked into the bathroom and found Annie with her head and both front feet in the tub, and her rear hanging out. I had left about an inch of water in the bathtub. When she saw me, she got all the way into the tub. I watched to see what she would do. She pawed at the drain hole, splashing water on her belly. She didn’t realize she was wetting herself, and turned around to see who was doing that to her. Seeing no one, she returned to pawing the drain more frantically, wetting her belly even more. Again she turned to see who was wetting her. I drained the water, but she wouldn’t get out so I reached over and turned on the shower. She bolted out of the tub and I thought I had a good hold on her, but she jumped right back into the tub, shower and all. That is ironic, since she hates going out in the rain. Go figure! I got it on videotape to watch later. Well, what can I say? It’s cheap entertainment.
Annie got into a stack of clothes hangers yesterday. She tore the paper covers into bits and chewed the cardboard sticks off the pants hangers. That was enough mess, but when I found her she was trying to pierce her tongue with a coated metal wire. It’s bad enough trying to deter my teenager from having her eyebrow pierced, without the dog having to join forces against me.
The house is in such a mess that my teenaged daughter is telling me I need to clean it. I ignored her just like she does me when I tell her to clean her room. She had a friend over yesterday while I was at work. She cleaned the house to keep from being embarrassed. I was going to get around to it, but I couldn’t find the mop. When I asked the other house residents about it, I found out that My Husband had taken it to the dump with the trash because it stank so badly. I guess I have put it through the wringer lately cleaning up after Annie.
Dear Animal Lovers,
Okay, I admit it. A new puppy was NOT a good idea. We called the place we bought her last night to see what we are doing wrong. They are convinced that Weimaraners are smart animals, and can learn if you discipline them. My house is still a mess, and we have worn out the Sunday paper whacking that dog for chewing on Indy and the furniture. She thinks it’s a game. We must be dumb parents. I failed the Human Parenting 101 class at church one time, why should I expect to pass Dog Parenting 202? She’s a fun dog, but she consumes a lot of time and energy that I don’t have to give.
I took both dogs to the vet today. I strapped Annie’s harness to the seatbelt in the back and put the old, blind dog (Indy) in the front with me. Indy peed in her seat and wanted to sit in my lap while I was driving. I guess she didn’t want to get her butt wet. It took two vet assistants to get both dogs out of the car and into the building. Waiting in that small treatment room was a trip without luggage. Indy gets nervous at the vet because she can’t see what’s going on. She likes to be held while she shakes. Annie was jealous and kept biting at her. Blind dog got mad and snapped at Annie. She missed and almost bit ME. Annie got her puppy booster shot today. The vet gave her a pawdicure. Perhaps trimming her nails will be less damaging for our possessions. They also cleaned her ears. Maybe her inability to obey was because she couldn’t hear. I asked them for a prescription to help her stop gnawing the furniture. They said there was nothing they could do. She’s simply hard of minding. She has chewed the corner of the coffee table, and torn a hole in the skirt of the side chair. The antique end table she chewed is now on top of her kennel. Trying to write a check was a Candid Camera event. It felt like my pen was in a Spirograph. The dogs were going around and around my legs, and I kept turning in circles trying to unwrap myself. Can dogs be put on Ritalin?
I saw photos of the Oklahoma bombing on TV. It reminded me of our living room after Annie has been out of her cage for 10 minutes. Our Weimaraner puppy is 16 weeks old today. Life is a game. She keeps landing on “go directly to jail, do not pass go, and do not collect $200.” Yep, her avenue is parked in her jail cell (kennel), right this moment and she’s barking for the warden. Perhaps she can be paroled after supper if she promises not to jump and hump on Indy.
Last night Annie decided to give herself a bath. I heard her lapping water and thought she was drinking from the toilet again. I walked into the bathroom and found Annie with her head and both front feet in the tub, and her rear hanging out. I had left about an inch of water in the bathtub. When she saw me, she got all the way into the tub. I watched to see what she would do. She pawed at the drain hole, splashing water on her belly. She didn’t realize she was wetting herself, and turned around to see who was doing that to her. Seeing no one, she returned to pawing the drain more frantically, wetting her belly even more. Again she turned to see who was wetting her. I drained the water, but she wouldn’t get out so I reached over and turned on the shower. She bolted out of the tub and I thought I had a good hold on her, but she jumped right back into the tub, shower and all. That is ironic, since she hates going out in the rain. Go figure! I got it on videotape to watch later. Well, what can I say? It’s cheap entertainment.
Annie got into a stack of clothes hangers yesterday. She tore the paper covers into bits and chewed the cardboard sticks off the pants hangers. That was enough mess, but when I found her she was trying to pierce her tongue with a coated metal wire. It’s bad enough trying to deter my teenager from having her eyebrow pierced, without the dog having to join forces against me.
The house is in such a mess that my teenaged daughter is telling me I need to clean it. I ignored her just like she does me when I tell her to clean her room. She had a friend over yesterday while I was at work. She cleaned the house to keep from being embarrassed. I was going to get around to it, but I couldn’t find the mop. When I asked the other house residents about it, I found out that My Husband had taken it to the dump with the trash because it stank so badly. I guess I have put it through the wringer lately cleaning up after Annie.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Hello Elmo
The year was 1999 and ....
Dear Pachyderm Pen Pals,
We bought a white plaster elephant yesterday. Of course, it was on sale. I painted it light green, named him Elmo. So, I admit it, we have an elephant in the living room, right beside the sofa.
You should have seen us trying to get Elmo home in the two-seater. First of all, elephants are REAL heavy, and REAL men don’t use shopping carts. He-man insisted on carrying it all the way to the car only to find that he couldn’t get to the keys in his pocket to unlock the trunk. Never mind -- it wouldn’t fit in the trunk anyway. On the way to the car, My Husband knocked Elmo’s head on the rear view mirror of the conversion van parked next to us. That set off the most hideous sounding alarm that went on and on. After making sure Elmo didn’t have a concussion, I opened the car door and quickly folded down the ragtop of the miniature convertible before My Husband had a hernia. All the while, I was scanning the parking lot to see if the van’s owner was coming out with an elephant gun. I tried not to laugh, honestly, I did.
The only place Elmo would fit was on the deck where the ragtop folds down. He had a great view and could wave at all his animals friends in the passing vehicles. We got some pretty strange looks taking our elephant for a ride in a Miata. My advice is: If you ever buy an elephant, take the truck to the store.
See you later alligator. After while, crocodile. In a term, pachyderm.
FROM: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SENT: May 30, 1999 2:32 PM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Hello Elmo
Sorry I missed the elephant thing - sounds like it was quite entertaining. A green elephant in the living room, huh? Just be careful who you tell that to. They might think the little voices in your head have been talking to you again.
Another thought: could Elmo be a suitable replacement for Annie? Hmmmm.......
FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SENT: May 30, 1999 2:32 PM
TO: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SUBJECT: RE:RE: Elmo
And what is wrong with hearing little voices?
Dear Pachyderm Pen Pals,
We bought a white plaster elephant yesterday. Of course, it was on sale. I painted it light green, named him Elmo. So, I admit it, we have an elephant in the living room, right beside the sofa.
You should have seen us trying to get Elmo home in the two-seater. First of all, elephants are REAL heavy, and REAL men don’t use shopping carts. He-man insisted on carrying it all the way to the car only to find that he couldn’t get to the keys in his pocket to unlock the trunk. Never mind -- it wouldn’t fit in the trunk anyway. On the way to the car, My Husband knocked Elmo’s head on the rear view mirror of the conversion van parked next to us. That set off the most hideous sounding alarm that went on and on. After making sure Elmo didn’t have a concussion, I opened the car door and quickly folded down the ragtop of the miniature convertible before My Husband had a hernia. All the while, I was scanning the parking lot to see if the van’s owner was coming out with an elephant gun. I tried not to laugh, honestly, I did.
The only place Elmo would fit was on the deck where the ragtop folds down. He had a great view and could wave at all his animals friends in the passing vehicles. We got some pretty strange looks taking our elephant for a ride in a Miata. My advice is: If you ever buy an elephant, take the truck to the store.
See you later alligator. After while, crocodile. In a term, pachyderm.
FROM: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SENT: May 30, 1999 2:32 PM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Hello Elmo
Sorry I missed the elephant thing - sounds like it was quite entertaining. A green elephant in the living room, huh? Just be careful who you tell that to. They might think the little voices in your head have been talking to you again.
Another thought: could Elmo be a suitable replacement for Annie? Hmmmm.......
FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SENT: May 30, 1999 2:32 PM
TO: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SUBJECT: RE:RE: Elmo
And what is wrong with hearing little voices?
Friday, May 8, 2009
Shopping with Teen
(circa 1999)
It was snowing when I took My Daughter to the mall yesterday to buy a pair of shoes. I left pinto beans warming on the stove so I had to hurry. I’d hate to have the dinner detector going off while I’m gone because it scares the blind dog. My Daughter and I were speed shopping in the mall, zipping from one store to the next asking, “Van or Airwalks, got them or not? Just shake your head, we’re in a hurry.”
We were practically running when we headed for the car. A woman was walking toward us using a cell phone. We heard her say, “Yeah, it’s really coming down out here…nah, just great big flakes….it ain’t stickin’ or nuthin’”
My Daughter, who was mad that we hadn’t found the right size, at the right price, in the right style shoe she wanted, sarcastically said, “Well, aren’t we special with our cell phone? There probably isn’t even anyone at the other end of that conversation.” I laughed when I realized I could do the same thing with that play phone I bought at the Dollar store last week!
Speaking of the Dollar Store, the one where everything’s $1.00, Cappi actually asked for a price check on one of the items. I nearly died laughing until I realized she was serious, then I was embarrassed. I’ve got to get new friends.
I gave Annie dog a bath today. The bathroom needed mopping anyway. God, I’m too old to have a baby dog. I’m having my checkbook tied after this one.
Time to practice my talent and walking down the runway. I’m going to win that ugly pajama pageant.
It was snowing when I took My Daughter to the mall yesterday to buy a pair of shoes. I left pinto beans warming on the stove so I had to hurry. I’d hate to have the dinner detector going off while I’m gone because it scares the blind dog. My Daughter and I were speed shopping in the mall, zipping from one store to the next asking, “Van or Airwalks, got them or not? Just shake your head, we’re in a hurry.”
We were practically running when we headed for the car. A woman was walking toward us using a cell phone. We heard her say, “Yeah, it’s really coming down out here…nah, just great big flakes….it ain’t stickin’ or nuthin’”
My Daughter, who was mad that we hadn’t found the right size, at the right price, in the right style shoe she wanted, sarcastically said, “Well, aren’t we special with our cell phone? There probably isn’t even anyone at the other end of that conversation.” I laughed when I realized I could do the same thing with that play phone I bought at the Dollar store last week!
Speaking of the Dollar Store, the one where everything’s $1.00, Cappi actually asked for a price check on one of the items. I nearly died laughing until I realized she was serious, then I was embarrassed. I’ve got to get new friends.
I gave Annie dog a bath today. The bathroom needed mopping anyway. God, I’m too old to have a baby dog. I’m having my checkbook tied after this one.
Time to practice my talent and walking down the runway. I’m going to win that ugly pajama pageant.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Dog Trouble
Here's a story from 1999:
Dear email people,
HELP! I’m getting tired of this crazy dog. Annie is aggravating Indy and driving us all crazy. If I’ve spanked her once, I’ve spanked her a hundred times to try and keep her from jumping on Indy and biting her. Indy is supposed to be the Alpha Dog. Annie could care less who or what an Alpha dog is.
Feeding the two of them is a major riot. Indy has to be picked up and carried to the bathroom and put behind closed doors just to eat in peace because Annie is so jealous of her. And why not -- Indy gets canned food and table scraps, and Annie gets dry food. There’s a reason for it. Annie is not a professional at the potty procedure, and we don't want anything released on the carpet that can't be picked up in a napkin. You can understand why keeping the two dogs apart at mealtime is very important. Annie knows there's more to life than dry dog food, and she is curious about what goes on up there on the kitchen counter. She has gotten tall enough to help toss the salad now. I was chopping veggies the other day when Annie pushed her nose between my hip and elbow, and grabbed a carrot. She made a clean get away before I could put down the knife and go after her. However, my reflexes are getting better. When I turned my back to make a drink today, Annie went for my Mexican TV dinner. I grabbed her by the tail and pulled her away without spilling my tea. We DON’T want to clean up recycled Mexican food from the carpet.
We call Annie the ‘lap dog’ because of her need for water. Both dogs started out sharing Indy's baby bear bowl but Annie drank the contents in three laps, and there was none left for Indy. Annie thought it was a toy and started carrying the bowl around with her. We got a very large bowl so Annie can't drink all of the contents in one visit. She still tries to carry it around even though it’s full. We mop the floor a lot.
Spressy
Dear email people,
HELP! I’m getting tired of this crazy dog. Annie is aggravating Indy and driving us all crazy. If I’ve spanked her once, I’ve spanked her a hundred times to try and keep her from jumping on Indy and biting her. Indy is supposed to be the Alpha Dog. Annie could care less who or what an Alpha dog is.
Feeding the two of them is a major riot. Indy has to be picked up and carried to the bathroom and put behind closed doors just to eat in peace because Annie is so jealous of her. And why not -- Indy gets canned food and table scraps, and Annie gets dry food. There’s a reason for it. Annie is not a professional at the potty procedure, and we don't want anything released on the carpet that can't be picked up in a napkin. You can understand why keeping the two dogs apart at mealtime is very important. Annie knows there's more to life than dry dog food, and she is curious about what goes on up there on the kitchen counter. She has gotten tall enough to help toss the salad now. I was chopping veggies the other day when Annie pushed her nose between my hip and elbow, and grabbed a carrot. She made a clean get away before I could put down the knife and go after her. However, my reflexes are getting better. When I turned my back to make a drink today, Annie went for my Mexican TV dinner. I grabbed her by the tail and pulled her away without spilling my tea. We DON’T want to clean up recycled Mexican food from the carpet.
We call Annie the ‘lap dog’ because of her need for water. Both dogs started out sharing Indy's baby bear bowl but Annie drank the contents in three laps, and there was none left for Indy. Annie thought it was a toy and started carrying the bowl around with her. We got a very large bowl so Annie can't drink all of the contents in one visit. She still tries to carry it around even though it’s full. We mop the floor a lot.
Spressy
Monday, May 4, 2009
Free to a good (or fairly good) home
Notice the date stamp in the email below. I'm no longer crying about this...
We tried to give the dog away, but they brought her back. The people down the street have a Wiemer, named Annie, and they thought it would be nice to have two Annie’s. Our Annie pestered their Annie so badly they returned her within 24 hours. I should have had them sign a no-return contract when I gave her away.
Keep praying,
Spressy
FROM: Alva@stateofmind.com
SENT: May 20, 1999 8:50 PM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Free to a good (or fairly good) home
OK, now this dog is just crazy !!!
FROM: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SENT: May 24, 1999 11:02 AM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Free to a good (or fairly good) home
I've come to the conclusion that dogs misbehave like they do because they always know if they wag their tail and give you that sad puppy dog look that you'll still love them anyway. It's hard to stay angry at a critter that loves you so unconditionally. If you give in, even the tiniest little bit, to their I-know-I-was-naughty-but-look-how-cute-I-am-and-how-much-I-love-you act, you're sunk. They're smart and it works for them every time!! As for the potty training for Annie, well ..... just don't give her Mexican food any time soon. It'll get better.
FROM: GoofyGordon@mineallmine.com
SENT: May 25, 1999 6:33 PM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Free to a good (or fairly good) home
I got to tell you about my favorite dog of all time. I once had a one-legged dog, named Pogo. Why, he just lay around most of the time but if he wanted to he could grab a hold of something with his teeth to pull himself up and he'd be on his way, hopped around pretty good, he did.
We tried to give the dog away, but they brought her back. The people down the street have a Wiemer, named Annie, and they thought it would be nice to have two Annie’s. Our Annie pestered their Annie so badly they returned her within 24 hours. I should have had them sign a no-return contract when I gave her away.
Keep praying,
Spressy
FROM: Alva@stateofmind.com
SENT: May 20, 1999 8:50 PM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Free to a good (or fairly good) home
OK, now this dog is just crazy !!!
FROM: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SENT: May 24, 1999 11:02 AM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Free to a good (or fairly good) home
I've come to the conclusion that dogs misbehave like they do because they always know if they wag their tail and give you that sad puppy dog look that you'll still love them anyway. It's hard to stay angry at a critter that loves you so unconditionally. If you give in, even the tiniest little bit, to their I-know-I-was-naughty-but-look-how-cute-I-am-and-how-much-I-love-you act, you're sunk. They're smart and it works for them every time!! As for the potty training for Annie, well ..... just don't give her Mexican food any time soon. It'll get better.
FROM: GoofyGordon@mineallmine.com
SENT: May 25, 1999 6:33 PM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Free to a good (or fairly good) home
I got to tell you about my favorite dog of all time. I once had a one-legged dog, named Pogo. Why, he just lay around most of the time but if he wanted to he could grab a hold of something with his teeth to pull himself up and he'd be on his way, hopped around pretty good, he did.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Dog Rage
Remember this happened in 1999. The dog I have now is a fat, lazy food-aholic.
You guessed it. It’s that DOG again.
After I got home today, still wearing heels and nice work clothes, I took Annie out before she had a chance to pee in the house. While she was doing her business I bent over to take a look at the coneflower that was starting to bloom. All of a sudden Annie jerked the leash from my hand and I fell into the flower garden. She had spied our neighbor’s chocolate lab and was gone in a flash. After I tunneled out of the flowers, I chased her yelling, “Come back here, you stupid bitch!”
The neighbors were entertained as I chased that dog from one end of the Labrador’s fence to the other. When I would get near enough to grab her, she would dart again. I had the idea that I would get her to chase me as I led her home. This worked for about ten steps. That’s when I lost one of my shoes and nearly fell again.
She caught me at a disadvantage and jumped on me with her muddy paws, then pulled at my clothes. While I was putting on my shoe, she lunged at me, caught hold of my brand new sweater, and pulled a hole in it. That made me even madder. I lunged for her but missed as she ran back to see the lab. This spectacle went on for ten minutes before I managed to get close enough to grab the end of her leash. When I tried to lead her home, she sat down like a stubborn-assed donkey and would not budge. I picked up that grinning, 40-pound, hair bag and started to carry her home. I was infuriated with this animal and wanted to kill her, but she was licking my face and biting at my hair. “It’s too late for affection, dog. You’re done for!”
I huffed and puffed angrily up the hill with the dog slipping lower and lower with each step. I could hardly walk as I dragged her between my legs. So much for new panty hose, they’re ruined.
Bedraggled, I reached the house only to find that my teenaged daughter had locked me out. She thought it was funny as she watched from the window. I did NOT think it was funny. At every door I tried, my daughter met me laughing hysterically, as I held onto that idiot dog with all my might. I was trying to keep Annie from biting me, while I banged on the locked door and yelled, “Let me in, or you won’t date until you’re thirty!” After making several threats that could have brought Family and Children’s Services out for a visit, she finally opened the door. My heart was pounding wildly -- partly from anger and partly from exhaustion. I lost all my religion as I gave that girl of mine the lecture of a lifetime on why a daughter does NOT want to lock her mother out of the house.
I WILL find a home for this beast! Do you hear me?! Even if I have to call the pound, I will get rid of this dog!
God help us all!
You guessed it. It’s that DOG again.
After I got home today, still wearing heels and nice work clothes, I took Annie out before she had a chance to pee in the house. While she was doing her business I bent over to take a look at the coneflower that was starting to bloom. All of a sudden Annie jerked the leash from my hand and I fell into the flower garden. She had spied our neighbor’s chocolate lab and was gone in a flash. After I tunneled out of the flowers, I chased her yelling, “Come back here, you stupid bitch!”
The neighbors were entertained as I chased that dog from one end of the Labrador’s fence to the other. When I would get near enough to grab her, she would dart again. I had the idea that I would get her to chase me as I led her home. This worked for about ten steps. That’s when I lost one of my shoes and nearly fell again.
She caught me at a disadvantage and jumped on me with her muddy paws, then pulled at my clothes. While I was putting on my shoe, she lunged at me, caught hold of my brand new sweater, and pulled a hole in it. That made me even madder. I lunged for her but missed as she ran back to see the lab. This spectacle went on for ten minutes before I managed to get close enough to grab the end of her leash. When I tried to lead her home, she sat down like a stubborn-assed donkey and would not budge. I picked up that grinning, 40-pound, hair bag and started to carry her home. I was infuriated with this animal and wanted to kill her, but she was licking my face and biting at my hair. “It’s too late for affection, dog. You’re done for!”
I huffed and puffed angrily up the hill with the dog slipping lower and lower with each step. I could hardly walk as I dragged her between my legs. So much for new panty hose, they’re ruined.
Bedraggled, I reached the house only to find that my teenaged daughter had locked me out. She thought it was funny as she watched from the window. I did NOT think it was funny. At every door I tried, my daughter met me laughing hysterically, as I held onto that idiot dog with all my might. I was trying to keep Annie from biting me, while I banged on the locked door and yelled, “Let me in, or you won’t date until you’re thirty!” After making several threats that could have brought Family and Children’s Services out for a visit, she finally opened the door. My heart was pounding wildly -- partly from anger and partly from exhaustion. I lost all my religion as I gave that girl of mine the lecture of a lifetime on why a daughter does NOT want to lock her mother out of the house.
I WILL find a home for this beast! Do you hear me?! Even if I have to call the pound, I will get rid of this dog!
God help us all!
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