He Said She Said - Laundry

"Thank you for doing the laundry," she said.

"That's OK,"  he said.  "It needed doing."

"Yes it DID!" she said, her annoyance showing.  "You seemed to leave it till it reached critical mass."

"I did it the way a MAN would do it," he said.  "I don't like to do it all the time.  It's like a job that never ends.  I hate jobs that never end.  Like doing your expenses."

"You can think of it that way," she replied, "or you can think of it as always being complete, because you're always on top of it."

"No, no, NO!"  he said.  "Haven't you watched enough Top Gear with me to understand how men think?  If I leave the laundry, it becomes a job.  It's the engineer in me.  I can work out how many loads are needed, what order to do it in, how to divide up the clothes.  It's Just in Time laundry!"

"Just in Time?  I've haven't had the right socks all week!  My gym socks, which are too short, have been rolling down to my toes when I walk in my boots!"

"Well it was Just in Time for me..."

"Oh, Colonel Pickering!" she sighed... "Why can't a man... be more like a woman?"

PROFESSOR HARRIET HIGGINS:

Why can't a woman be more like a man?

Why can't a man, be more like a woman?

Men are so honest, so thoroughly square;

Women are loyal, always a friend 

Eternally noble, historically fair.

A shoulder to cry on, right through to the end

Who, when you win, will always give your back a pat.

Who, when you drunk-puke, we will hold your hair back

Why can't a woman be like that?

Why can't a man be more like that?

Why does every one do what the others do?

Why does every man do what his buddies do?

Can't a woman learn to use her head?

Can't a man learn to think for himself?

Why do they do everything their mothers do?

Must they copy their fathers and try to outdo?

Why don't they grow up, well, like their father instead?

Why can't they leave their ego on the shelf?

Why can't a woman take after a man?

Why can't a man take after a woman?

Men are so pleasant, so easy to please.

Women are pleasant, so eager to please.

Whenever you're with them, you're always at ease.

Whenever you're with them, they put you at ease.

Would you be slighted if I didn't speak for hours?

Would you be worried if I didn't speak for hours?

COLONEL LADY PICKERING:

Of course not!

But of course!

PROFESSOR HARRIET HIGGINS:

Would you be livid if I had a drink or two?

Would you giggle if we had a drink or two?

COLONEL LADY PICKERING:

Nonsense!

Like a baby!

PROFESSOR HARRIET HIGGINS:

Would you be wounded if I never sent you flowers?

Would you be excited if somebody sent me flowers?

COLONEL LADY PICKERING:

Never.

Always!

   

PROFESSOR HARRIET HIGGINS:

Well, why can't a woman be like you?

Well, why can't a man be like you?

One man in a million may shout a bit.

One woman in a million may nag a bit.

Now and then, there's one with slight defects.

Now and then there's one with no self respect.

One perhaps whose truthfulness you doubt a bit,

One perhaps who behaves like a slut a bit,

But by and large we are a marvelous sex!

But by and large we are the better sex!

Why can't a woman take after a man?

Why can't a man, take after a woman?

'Cause men are so friendly, good-natured and kind.

Women are sweet, good-natured and kind.

A better companion you never will find.

A better confidante you never will find.

If I were hours late for dinner would you bellow?

If we had dinner plans would you be on time?

 

COLONEL LADY PICKERING:

Of course not.

Of course!

 

PROFESSOR HARRIET HIGGINS:

If I forgot your silly birthday, would you fuss?

If my birthday came around you'd make a fuss?

 

COLONEL LADY PICKERING:

Nonsense.

I always do!

PROFESSOR HARRIET HIGGINS:

Would you complain if I took out another fellow?

Would you help me check my date's a worthy fellow?

 

COLONEL LADY PICKERING:

Never.

I always have!

PROFESSOR HARRIET HIGGINS:

Why can't a woman be like us?

Well why can't men be more like us?

Why can't a woman be more like a man?

Why can't a man be more like a woman?

Men are so decent, such regular chaps;

Women are decent, sweet smelling and clean;

Ready to help you through any mishaps;

Egging you on when it's time to be mean;

Ready to buck you up whenever you're glum.

Ready to pick you up whenever you are down.

Why can't a woman be a chum?

Why does a man have to be such a clown?

Why is thinking something women never do?

Why is cleaning something that men never do?

And why is logic never even tried?

And why is tidying up never tried?

Straightening up their hair is all they ever do.

Tinkering with things is all they ever do,

Why don't they straighten up the mess that's inside?

While making messes we just can't abide!

Why can't a woman behave like a man?

Why can't a man be more like a woman?

If I was a woman who'd been to a ball,

If I was a man and had been to a game

Been hailed as a princess by one and by all;

Drunk myself stupid - only myself to blame - 

Would I start weeping like a bathtub overflowing,

Would I grab more beer and fast food by the box full?

Or carry on as if my home were in a tree?

Or determine to watch more sport on TV?

Would I run off and never tell me where I'm going?

Or carry on as if I'm a Neanderthal?

Why can't a woman be like me?

Why can't a man be like me?

Quote Unquote - Twitter

 

Overheard at dinner:

"My grandmother thought Twitter was the plural of Twat!"

He Said She Said - Christmas Silliness

 

It was Christmas Day.  Presents had been opened, breakfast bagels chomped and mimosas clinked in a toast.  She heaved herself off the sofa and, planting her feet, thrust her hips out, her head back and bent backwards, arms out, shaking her boobies.

"What's this?" she asked him

He was distracted, inspecting his present.

"What's this?" she said again, still bobbing her chest from side to side.

"An epileptic fit?" he said.

"Nope!"  Shake.  Shake.  "Try again!"

"Indigestion?"

"Aw come on!  Try again!"

"Your touchdown happy dance?"

"NO!" she yelled.  "It's the Chrimbo Limbo!"

"I'm going to let that silly joke pass," he said, "because I'm full of Christmas spirit."

"After all that effort I went to?" she whined, straightening up, slowly.  "I think I threw my back out!"

"Your effort of creating a silly joke based on my homeland's slang description of the birth of Christ through dangerous gyration is greatly appreciated.  Now, seeing as you're up anyway, how about some more champagne?  Maybe if I drink more, I'll think you're funny."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and headed for the kitchen.

Hell is other people - Your children are revolting

 

The other day I was at the Video store with Fluffy Bear.

A father was in there with his two kids.

They were utterly revolting.  I'm not kidding.

He was trying to discipline them, but his tone of voice had all the authority of Deputy Dawg.

It sent something like this:

Annoying Girl:  "Dadeee!  He's kicking me!"

Awful Boy:  [Kick! Kick! Kick!]

Annoying Girl:  "OW!  Dadeee!"

Useless Father:  "Now Bil-leeee... Don't doooo that."

Annoying Girl:  "I want THIS one!"

Useless Father:  "No... We already have one you chose, Cindy."

Awful Boy: [Kick!  Kick!  Kick!]

Annoying Girl:  "Dadeeeee!"

Useless Father:  "Now, Billy, I saaaaid to stop thaaaaat."

Annoying Boy:  "I WANT MY SKITTLES!"

Useless Father:  "Well, you won't haaaave Skittles because you are being naaaaaughteeee."

Annoying Boy:  [Kick!  Kick!  Kick!]

Useless Father:  "Now you kiiiiids go out and wait in the caaaaa-har.  Go wait in the ca-haaaaaar."

I don't have to tell you - do I? - that the kids got their Skittles, and they didn't go out to the car.

As this went on - and it went on for over ten minutes - the rest of us in the video store started to catch each other's eye.  We were raising eyebrows, making faces at each other.  The atmosphere was very tense and I certainly couldn't concentrate on what movie to get.  We were all marking time, wishing they would just leave.

Finally, the Useless Father managed to pay for the DVDs and candy and he herded the revolting children out of the door.

There was an audible collective sigh of relief.

"Well, I would've been whooped if I behaved like that!" said one woman.

"Oh my GOD!  Thank God they're GONE!" said the video store guy.

"I would have been taken out of here with no DVDs and definitely no Skittles!" said Fluffy Bear.  "Not that I would've ever behaved that way in the first place!"

"Me neither," said a man in a baseball hat.  "Not if I wanted to live."

I was so tense by this time that I really felt I had to do something about this.

I went out of the store and up to the Useless Father.  He saw me coming and I swear he tried to get into his car faster.

"Hi," I said.  Then: "HELLO!" as he tried to ignore me.

"Hi," he mumbled.

"A friend of mine is a SuperNanny," I told him.  It's true, by they way.  "Her website is [URL deleted].com, if you're interested."

"No," he said, quickly.  "No thank you," and he closed his door with a bang.

I went back into the video store and told them all what I'd done.

Someone cheered, and suddenly video store guy found a copy of a film we'd been looking for, which someone else (that it had been reserved for) hadn't collected.

I really think we all need to speak up when we encounter badly brought up kids negatively impacting our lives in public.  After all, when we're retired, these revolting little fuckers will be running the country.

I don't blame the kids.  Kids are kids.  They'll push the boundaries if you let them, just like any small animal.  

It's the parents who are the failure.  A mother dog growls at her puppy and shakes it by the scruff of it's neck to teach it what it should and shouldn't do.  Human parents have the same obligation.

Hell is other people.

Couch Potato - Julie and Julia

 

Note - Spoiler Alert!

 

We are watching "Julie and Julia" with Meryl Streep and Amy Adams.  I thought you might like to enjoy experiencing it with us.

 

 

Amy Adams cooks chicken with cream and mushrooms

 

Ah, Food Porn.  Fluffy Bear just made a little orgasmic noises.

 

 

Julia Childs is at her first cooking course at the Cordon Bleu

 

Haha!  Their first lesson is how to boil an egg.  Reminds me of a recipe book my mother used to have which was written by a group of women to raise money for charity.  Was it the Rotary Anns?  I can't remember.  

 

Anyway, one of the women clearly had a sense of humor and submitted a recipe especially for husbands.  It was "Boiled Oeuf."  I laughed my ass off the first time I saw it.

 

 

Julia Childs goes into a Paris patisserie

 

Oh, my GOD!  I just let out a high pitched shriek.  How I love going into patisseries - those glorious smelling, colorful places!  

 

I remember how the people behind the counter would get pinched faces as they heard Fluffy Bear and I conversing in English accents, trying to choose between the delicacies and stop ourselves from buying enough treats for eight people.  

 

Then, once we were ready and I turned to the shop owner and greeted him or her in French, watching their faces light up.  Ah!  An Englishwoman who makes an effort!  Suddenly the conversation would flow, they would make recommendations, brew us some coffee and then we would choose a table, sit outside and indulge.  

 

There is nothing quite like tearing that first part of a fresh croissant off and popping it into your mouth...  It is one of those feelings that is unique, sits indelibly carved in your memory and you seek it out, this perfect experience, again and again.  Like a scary rollercoaster ride, or the perfect kiss.

 

But no supermarket, no independent bakery can ever rival a real French patisserie croissant, no matter where you are.  Even if the owner is a real Frenchman.

 

Maybe it's because the expertise isn't there.  Maybe the flour and butter is special in France.  Maybe it's the fact that you are in France that adds to the flavor.  I don't know.

 

I just know that I really miss real French croissant.

 

A lot.

 

 

Julia takes her first test at the Cordon Bleu

 

She is asked to write down the recipe for Creme Renversee au Caramel.  This dessert was my mother's staple at family parties.  The recipe calls for an astronomical amount of eggs, takes beating till your arm wants to fall off and is the best dessert I have ever had in my life.  

  

As my mother got older and was more and more sick with Cancer, she struggled to cook.  But, when I went home to visit, she always made this for me.  

  

I never ever order Creme Caramel in a restaurant, for I am utterly convinced that no-one can make it like my mother.

 

 

Julie moves on to Aspics

 

Urgh!  My parents loved aspics.  I never ever liked them.  That revolting jelly around the meat repulsed me.  The taste, the texture, the wobbly-bobblyness of them.  I used to pick out the pieces of meat and try to wipe the jelly off them. 

 

 

Julia complains about converting metric measures to imperial

 

"Measurements do not matter" says Simone.  

"Of course they do!" says Julia.

 

My mother was exactly the same.  

 

"Only in cakes," she told me, "do proportions matter.  Everything else, you just add to taste, and substitute.  Just experiment, my dear!"

 

As I've said to you before, she wanted me to spend time with her in the kitchen and learn, but I refused.  I equated my mother's job as family cook as part of her oppression by my father, and didn't want to end up as a housewife.  If I never learnt the skills, I could have a plausible excuse for any potential suitor!  

 

Besides which, I wanted to be a career woman.

 

My friends think I am lucky because Fluffy Bear does all the cooking in our house.  Yes, I am lucky.  Very lucky.  But I missed out on learning from a master chef, my mother.

 

"Just give me the recipes," I told her.  

"I don't have recipes!" she snapped.  "I just do it!"

 

And yum yum!  She sure did.

 

 

Julie is outed as a blogger

 

They day I dread!  Julie's boss finds out about her blog!

 

I am even more concerned about this part of the story than Julie's problems with her husband.  Maybe that's because my blog doesn't get in the way of my marriage.  Fluffy Bear is very supportive.  He even laughs at my "He Said She Said" posts - because I add detail that make them more dramatic or comedic than our real lives.

 

Fact is, we get on so well with each other that we piss some of our friends off.  Sometimes I even wonder at it.  Not to say we don't have issues - of course we do!  But being friends isn't one of them.

  

So... back to the outing thing.

 

If I was outed as a blogger to my colleagues or to people I've chosen not to tell (my good friends know) it would stifle my writing.  

 

How could I tell you about my colleague who has as dry a sense of humor as I have if he finds out who I am?  And will he joke with me if he suspects he may be quoted? 

 

How can I tell you about TLA-itis if the people I work with know they said "CEP", "GEW" or "BPY" in a meeting with me.  I'm not going to bother to explain those Three Letter Acronyms to you.  They are specific to the tools and processes used in places I've worked, so they won't mean anything even if i do break them down.  They're in the same family as: "SWAG" (silly wild arsed guess) and FUBARed (fucked up beyond all recognition).

 

And some places where I've worked handle sensitive client information and therefore have very - um... - effective legal departments.

 

No.  No.  No!  Anonymity is vital.

 

 

Julia meets her pen pal

 

Do pen pals exist anymore anymore?

 

My mother had pen pals that she wrote to her whole life and yet never met.  When my sister came to visit us in the UK a few years ago, she went up country to visit a woman she'd been writing to for over 30 years.

 

I remember, as a child, my mother encouraging me to write to kids from overseas who advertised for pen pals in kids magazines.

 

I never wanted to commit to writing regularly (I was a lazy, spoiled child), so I never followed up on it.  Think now, if I had relationships with people in Brazil, or Australia, or China!

 

I do actually know people in all those places, to be honest, but I've taken another path to get those contacts, and we don't write.  Has email killed the letter as an art form?

 

I think we write our letters in blogs now but, sadly, it's often a one sided conversation.  I do learn things about other people's lives, from reading their blogs, but dialog is not a big part of the equation.

 

I should've written those foreign kids and become a pen pal.  Damn!  My mother was right about everything!

 

 

Julie is in her underwear, being carried to the bed by Eric

 

She's cooked over 300 recipes and she's that thin?

 

BULLSHIT!

 

I can't help but wonder what the real people this movie is based on think of their portrayal in it.  The bitchy career "friends" in the beginning, too preoccupied with their cell phones to make time to talk to each other at lunch; Julie's mother, who criticizes and tears her down at every opportunity; Julie's husband, who leaves her because of the food meltdowns and not enough sex.

 

On Julia's side of the equation, everyone is probably dead, but Louisette Bertholle's descendants, like Salieri's after "Amadeus" came out, may be pissed off at the storyline involving their esteemed ancestor.  She is shown as not having an equal contribution to "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," which is a little sad.

 

I know it makes the movie more interesting, but I can't help but feel sorry for real people out there when they are portrayed negatively in a film.

 

 

Julie cooks duck in pastry

 

Me: "Wow!  Look at that, Honey.  Imagine all the fat from the skin of the duck seeping..."

Fluffy Bear: "... into the meat inside the pastry?  Oooooh....."

Me:  "Oooooh!"

Julia gets the first copy of her published book

 

I know I should be cheering for Julia, but I spent most of the scene admiring her beautiful shoes.  

 

The final still shot, however, of Julia with her hand over her mouth, looking at her book, was very endearing. 

 

 

An actual review of the movie

 

It's very sweet but, as Fluffy Bear said, we'd rather have had the whole movie be about Julia, who seemed to have been a fascinating person.  I'd love to know more about her life in various countries as well as her journey to becoming the quintessential TV chef.  

I think we need a miniseries on Julia Child.

Meryl Streep could do it, or even Gena Davis.  Even Jane Lynch, who played Julia's sister in the movie, could give it a go.

HBO?  Showtime?

 

Dear Diary - New Year's Resolutions

 

Dear Diary,

I am making two types of New Year's Resolutions this year. 

I read a post the other day about changing one's thinking on resolutions.  It was all about giving oneself gifts rather than rules.

And so, for 2010, I am going to give myself the following gifts:

• The gift of exercise, to help me manage stress, increase my energy and improve my health
• The gift of clear lungs, through keeping up the Nicorette gum.  I am also not going to pressure myself on this point, so that I can keep chewing as long as I need to
• The gift of relaxation - time to read, long hot baths, switching off the laptop, fun with my furkids, dates with my husband
• The gift of experiencing and seeing new things, taking walks and trips with my Fluffy Bear and the furkids
• The gift of friendship, making time to spend with my wonderful friends (my surrogate family) 
• The gift of family, making time to talk to my relatives overseas through Skype, email and IM
• The gift of success, by making an effort to do my work to the best of my ability
• The gift of extending my networking, through meeting colleagues and making the time to attend events held by the organizations I am a member of
• The gift of learning, through training courses, reading and job shadowing
• The gift of treats - chocolate, massages, dinners out
• The gift of fun - Flash Mobs, singing in public and other silly things
• The gift of self-expression through dance and, of course, writing this blog!

The second type are actual resolutions, but ones I know I have a 100% chance of being able to keep:

• I will shout "Batter up!" every time I burp out loud

Happy New Year!

Puppy Talk - Ear cleaning

 

Puppy Girl:  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

Puppy Dog:  What are you screaming about?

Puppy Girl:  [Shaking head furiously]  Mama's putting stinky water in my ears!  Why, Mama, why?

Puppy Dog:  Just stand still.  There'll be treats after.

Puppy Girl:  But why?  WHY IS SHE DOING THIS?  STOP IT MAMA!

Puppy Dog:  It's to clean---

Puppy Girl:  AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!  The other ear!  The other ear!  I HATE YOU MAMA!

Puppy Dog:  [Sigh]  Just.  Stand.  Still.

Puppy Girl:  Now she's massaging this gross stuff into my ear?  Heavenly Dog!  What IS this?

Puppy Dog:  I was trying to tell you!  She's cleaning your ears!

Puppy Girl:  [Chomp, chomp]  Mmmmmm, treats...  BUT I STILL HATE YOU MAMA!

Puppy Dog:  Mama has to put that stuff into our ears because wax builds up in there and we can get sick.  [Shaking]  Brrrrlllllbbbbb!

Puppy Girl:  See?  See?  It's horrible.

Puppy Dog:  I never said I liked it.  I said she had to do it.  [Shaking]  Brrrrlllllbbbbb!

Puppy Girl:  How do you know all this stuff?  

Puppy Dog:  I know because I heard Mama and Dada talking about it.  

Puppy Girl:  Hmmph!  I still hate Mama.  I'm not talking to her.  Ever!

Puppy Dog:  Do you remember when you had to go to the vet that time?  And he looked in your ears?  And then you got medicine?

Puppy Girl:  Don't remind me!  That vet rubbed me all over and put his hands in my mouth and put things in my ears!

Puppy Dog:  Exactly.  That's cos you were sick.  And if Mama doesn't clean our ears, we get sick and you have to go to the vet again.

Puppy Girl:  I don't care!  I still hate Mama!  So there!

Puppy Dog:  Life isn't always a fatty scrap of barbecued steak, kid.  You'll learn.

Puppy Girl:  Oh whoop de doo!  When did Dog put YOU in charge?

Puppy Dog:  I'm bigger than you.  I'm older than you.  I'll ALWAYS be in charge, Dog or no Dog, so get used to it.

Puppy Girl:  Oh SHUT UP!

Puppy Dog:  Do you want me to pin you?  Do you?

Puppy Girl:  MAMA!  MAMA HE'S HURTING ME!  MAMA, PLEASE PICK ME UP AND CUDDLE ME!  I LOVE YOU MAMA!

Puppy Dog:  Stupid baby.

Puppy Talk - Santa Time

 

Puppy Girl:  Hey, big bro, what's Christmas?

Puppy Dog:  It's a big dog thing.  When you're older you'll understand.

Puppy Girl:  Aw, come on.  Tell me!  You've seen it before, right?

Puppy Dog:  [Indignant sniff!]  Of course I have!  I've seen it twice!

Puppy Girl:  Wow!  BOW wow wow!  So tell me - what's it all about?  What's it like?

Puppy Dog:  Well, it's a hairless ape thing.  They bring a tree that doesn't smell of anything out of a box from upstairs, and they put lights on it. 

Puppy Girl:  And balls!  Hanging, bobbling, shiny balls!

Puppy Dog:  Trust me, kid.  Don't try to play with those.  They're not for us.

Puppy Girl:  OK, whatever.  I've seen the funny smelling tree.  What else happens?

Puppy Dog:  Well they hang those big socks above the fire box and put stuff all over the house.

Puppy Girl!  I'M NOT BLIND!  I can see all that stuff.  What happens on the day?

Puppy Dog:  Well, there's strange white stuff called snow on the ground.  It's cold and it's lots of fun because it's soft and you can run around in it and play!

Puppy Girl:  Cooooooool!  What else?

Puppy Dog:  Well, on the big day Mama and Dada get up and take those funny boxes from under the tree.  If Mama put paper around the box, she gives it to Dada.  And if Dada put paper around the box, he gives it to Mama.  Then they take the paper off and pretend to be happy.

Puppy Girl:  What's in the boxes?  

Puppy Dog:  I dunno.  Hairless ape stuff.  Nothing insteresting.  I've smelled them all - there's no food.

Puppy Girl:  Booooooring.  What else?  What else?

Puppy Dog:  Then we get new toys!

Puppy Girl:  Toys?  I love toys!

Puppy Dog:  No kidding.

Puppy Girl:  TOTALLY SICK, DUDE!  What else?  What else?

Puppy Dog:  Then Uncle Bill comes and they open other boxes and eat a lot of food and drink that water that makes them walk silly.

Puppy Girl:  Do we get food?

Puppy Dog:  Just stay near the big table and be good.  They seem nicer with the scraps that day.

Puppy Girl:  ARFALICIOUS!  I love scraps!  What else?  What else?

Puppy Dog:  Then they sit in front of the flicker box and watch the little people.  Then they eat more and drink more and that's about it.  Then we go to bed.  Don't walk to close to them on the way to the bedroom... they stumble a lot.

Puppy Girl:  And the next day... what happens the next day?

Puppy Dog:  Same thing, except no new toys.  And there isn't new food... it's the food left from the day before.

Puppy Girl:  So what?  Even TEN day old food is good!  In fact, it smells way better!  Hey, are Mama and Dada are home all day?

Puppy Dog:  Yep.

Puppy Girl:  New toys, food, Mama and Dada home all day, fluffy white stuff to play in... IT SOUNDS DOGaTASTIC!

Puppy Dog:  Well, the tree is up and the cold box has a lot of food in it, so it must be close...

Puppy Girl:  Yaaaaay!  Christmas is coming!  Arooooooooooooooooooo!

Puppy Dog:  It's gonna be fun, I have to admit.

Puppy Girl:  [Bounce!]  Christmas is coming!  Arooooooooooooooo! Aroooooooooo!

Puppy Dog:  Yes, yes.  It's all very exciting.  But shhhh now.

Puppy Girl:  [Bounce!  Bounce!]  Christmas is coming!  Arooooooooooooooo! AROOOOOOOOOOOO!

Puppy Dog:  [Sigh.]  Maybe this is why Mama always says Christmas is a headache...

Puppy Talk - Sucky face and hairless apes

 

Puppy Girl:  EW!  Why does she do that?

Puppy Dog:  What?

Puppy Girl:  Try to suck my face off.  It's gross!

Puppy Dog:  You mean Mama?

Puppy Girl:  No, the Fairy Dogmother.  YES I mean Mama!  She bends over me and purses her fat hairless ape lips and makes a strange schlooping sound and leans in to suck my face!

Puppy Dog:  Sigh.  That's not what she's doing.  She's kissing you.  That's how hairless apes do it.  They don't lick like we do.

Puppy Girl:  Why not?  They have tongues, just like us!

Puppy Dog:  I don't know.  Maybe it's because their lips are so much bigger than ours.  Maybe they can't get them out of the way to let their tongue out far enough.

Puppy Girl:  Aw... they're deformed!

Puppy Dog:  Of course they are!  I mean, how about the hairless thing?  All those silly furs they have, all that time it takes to put them on, all that grunting when Mama tries to close those 'Jeans' things. We can just go outside whenever we want to.  

Puppy Girl:  I know!  And they can't run nearly as fast as we do.  Thank goodness they can go to that big house of food, because they sure as hell can't hunt with those big flabby legs.

Puppy Dog:  Have you ever seen them run?  Sometimes I run away from them just to see them klablobble after me out of the corner of my eye.  It's so funny!  

Puppy Girl:  They're so unstable standing on two legs!  Do you remember that time Mama fell over just because I wriggled a bit in her arms?  It was like a little earthquake when she toppled over!  Ha ha!

Puppy Dog:  And how about the howling?  When Mama howls at the music on the Flicker Box, my ears hurt!

Puppy Girl:  I know!  Whenever that Glee thing comes on the Flicker Box, I want to run away and hide!  Mama seems to think she can howl better than the little people inside the box, and she is so totally wrong!

Puppy Dog:  I think it's kinda funny...

Puppy Girl:  Hairless apes are sooooo weird.

Puppy Dog:  Yeah, but they got the food.  And the beds.  And the fireplace.

Puppy Girl:  I guess I can put up with some sucky face now and again.

Puppy Dog:  Now you're getting it...

Quote Unquote - A Christmas Reminder from Sting

"Christmas is a very difficult time for some people.  It has this gravitational pull towards your roots all the time.  So if we can, we gravitate towards somewhere very warm, very familiar: home, the cradle, the hearth, the fireside.

We want to be in these places.

But, people who can't do that, who have no home to go to, they find it very, very depressing and it's not all 'God rest ye merry gentlemen' and 'everything is wonderful.'

Things aren't.

Things are tough."

Sting.

Who are you helping out this Christmas?  Do you have a colleague who is an immigrant and doesn't have family here and needs an invitation to Christmas dinner?  Have you donated that old coat to the homeless?  Have you dropped a gift for an impoverished child in a collection bin at your local market?  Did you donate some cans of food to your local soup kitchen?

Before you eat yourself stupid and open all those presents, help someone out.

He Said She Said - Cleaning time

 

"It's 10pm!" he said.  "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she replied.

"You're cleaning the floor."

"Yes, I am."

"But the cleaner is coming tomorrow!"

"Yes, and she can't see our kitchen floor like this.  The dogs have brought too much mud in from outside.  It's embarrassing."

"Are you listening to yourself?"

"It makes perfect sense to me," she said, pushing the mop violently.

"I'm just going to go..." he said, "Uh... back to the living room, sit down, and watch TV.  OK?  I'll be just in here..."  He backed away, slowly.

Quote Unquote - My little baby girl...

 

Daughter was on her play cell phone. I asked who she was talking to and she said her boyfriend. I said what's his name. she said "men." DAMN!

@WhyIsDaddyCryin (http://www.whyisdaddycrying.com/)

Quote Unquote - Ignorance can be too much bliss

 

Comments from my cousin's fellow students, at a University somewhere in one of the square states:

"Who's Nelson Mandela?"

"You're from Africa?  But, you're white!"

"How come you're from Africa and you speak such good English?"

Dear Diary - I've gone all Austin Powers

 

Dear Diary,

I want my Mojo back!

It's been a few short weeks since I started my new job and I have no inspiration to blog.  I have nothing to talk about.

I mean - come on! - everyone on the team is so nice.  

Yes, I know I'm still in the honeymoon period, but seriously, there isn't one person I don't like.

We have none - count them: none! - of the usual suspects.

We don't have a Mr Step-On-Your-Head who tries to take over every meeting, take credit for work other people do, or take over the coolest projects.

We don't have a Dead Wood Guy, who is a complete waste of space, has been doing what he does for years, doesn't want to change or improve or think, likes his simple life and is gone by 4pm every day.

We don't have a Chatty Cathy Time Warp, who comes over to your desk, asks inane questions and somehow manages to take up 30 minutes of your time discussing absolutely nothing.

We don't have a Preggie Peggy, clomping around, sitting down slowly and getting up while panting, touting her ultrasounds and interrupting meetings to say her baby is kicking.

We don't even have a Sneaky Suck-up, who talks a lot without saying anything and repeats whatever the boss has said when asked for his opinion. 

Crap.  

I hate having nothing to complain about...

Quote Unquote - My big boy

 

"My son is so skinny he's envious of a stiff wind."

Colleague, perhaps mis-using a common idiom

Quote Unquote - Meeting the Queen

 

An audience member of the Graham Norton Show on BBC America, telling a story:

"We were invited to meet the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh, my son and I.  My son is blind, so the Queen asked him how much of his sight, if any, he had left.  And the Duke of Edinburgh said 'Not much, judging by his tie!' "

Pic - Man Fridge

Fluffy Bear has his Christmas man fridge all set and ready to go...

Quote Unquote - Praying

 

"If you pray and don't get an answer, that's God tellin' yo' ass NO."

50 Cent on the Graham Norton Show, BBC America

Note to Self - On Leaving the House at Night

 

Note to self:

If you are going to go outside at night because you just have to cut a sprig of holly for the centerpiece arrangement from that bush in the front yard, and you leave the light off so the neighbors don't see you in your PJs, try to remember how many steps there are from your front porch so you don't fall flat on your ass and retwist your right ankle, which is just starting to heal from the ass-kissing-the-linoleum-incident.  

And try leaving the front door open so your husband can actually hear you when you yell out that you need help getting up.  

Or turn on the damn lights and put a coat on.  

Your choice.

If you liked this post, see the other Note to Self posts here.

Quote Unquote - Sarcasm

 

New Guy: "Are you being sarcastic?  Because I'm Canadian and we don't get it.  We don't have as big a Jewish population as you do."

Thirty Rock