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My dog is so weird. He must be part goat, because he eats anything. Anything. I mean I've seen him steal apple cores from the trash and eat leaves from the porch.
But I love him so much, if he died I'd go into a massive depression.
So that's something weird I like.
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One of my dogs ate a cd with no harm to it and another ate a wooden spoon. My son and his roommate are always leaving their bedroom door open and I regularly see candy wrappers in the dogs' poop.
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An entire rotisserie chicken.
My 35 pound dog once ate an entire rotisserie chicken. She looked like a python that had swallowed a gazelle and her fur smelled like chicken for weeks.
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Ever since you posted this I've wanted chicken.
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Ever since you posted this I've wanted chicken.
Do you know what happens to a Dungeon Master that gets hit by chicken?
The same thing that happens to everything else.
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Ever since you posted this I've wanted chicken.Do you know what happens to a Dungeon Master that gets hit by chicken?
The same thing that happens to everything else.
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I find it incredibly relaxing to do water changes on my 3 fish tanks, often with aquarium podcasts going on in the background.
I love baking at Christmas time, which always seems to surprise folks because I am a single dude with no kids.
One of the favorite parts of my job is watching the reactions of the undergrads in my human anatomy class to some painful sounding anatomy factoid or medical condition (the cringes from the male students as I explain what "testicular torsion" is often especially satisfying)
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I love baking at Christmas time, which always seems to surprise folks because I am a single dude with no kids.
One of the favorite parts of my job is watching the reactions of the undergrads in my human anatomy class to some painful sounding anatomy factoid or medical condition (the cringes from the male students as I explain what "testicular torsion" is often especially satisfying)
Hopefully you explain this using appropriately-shaped Christmas cookies as visual aids...
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When I was very young, my age in the high single digits or low double digits (memory fails me) there was a bagel. It was a blueberry bagel.
Someone, in days long past, had taken a bite out of this bagel and then dropped it on the ground outside. And then no one had ever picked it up. It just stayed out there, rain or shine, for, gosh, months at least. This bagel was a fact of my life. It was a feature of the back yard like any of the trees or thornbushes.
The bagel was as hard as stone. I know. I poked it, both with a stick and with my fingers, on several occasions. There are three types of rock. Igneous rocks used to be wet and really hot to touch. Sedimentary rocks used to be sand or mud or something. And then there are metamorphic rocks, which are petrified bagels. This bagel was a metamorphic rock.
My much older half-sister had a cat. She had a ton of cats, over the course of my childhood. She probably still has a ton of cats. But one in particular, which this story revolves around. His name was Carebear, but she called him "Bear" which was more manly. When Carebear was thus christened, she hadn't known his gender. Carebear was a very inbred cat. His mother was also his grandmother and great grandmother. Carebear was not the world's brightest animal. In fact, some might go so far as to call him really, really dumb.
For some reason or another, Carebear was coming to stay with us. I don't remember why. She might have been moving into an apartment that didn't allow pets? But Carebear was coming to stay with us, is the important part.
I watched Carebear eat that bagel. No one believed me afterward, 'it's hard as rock!' they said, 'cats don't eat bagels!' they said, but I swear on all things holy that I watched Carebear eat that bagel. I don't know why, I'm not sure how, but eat that bagel he did, and I saw it happen.
When I was very young, my age in the high single digits or low double digits (memory fails me) there was a bagel. It was a blueberry bagel.
Someone, in days long past, had taken a bite out of this bagel and then dropped it on the ground outside. And then no one had ever picked it up. It just stayed out there, rain or shine, for, gosh, months at least. This bagel was a fact of my life. It was a feature of the back yard like any of the trees or thornbushes.
The bagel was as hard as stone. I know. I poked it, both with a stick and with my fingers, on several occasions. There are three types of rock. Igneous rocks used to be wet and really hot to touch. Sedimentary rocks used to be sand or mud or something. And then there are metamorphic rocks, which are petrified bagels. This bagel was a metamorphic rock.
My much older half-sister had a cat. She had a ton of cats, over the course of my childhood. She probably still has a ton of cats. But one in particular, which this story revolves around. His name was Carebear, but she called him "Bear" which was more manly. When Carebear was thus christened, she hadn't known his gender. Carebear was a very inbred cat. His mother was also his grandmother and great grandmother. Carebear was not the world's brightest animal. In fact, some might go so far as to call him really, really dumb.
For some reason or another, Carebear was coming to stay with us. I don't remember why. She might have been moving into an apartment that didn't allow pets? But Carebear was coming to stay with us, is the important part.
I watched Carebear eat that bagel. No one believed me afterword, 'it's hard as rock!' they said, 'cat's don't eat bagels!' the said, but I swear on all things holy that I watched Carebear eat that bagel. I don't know why, I'm not sure how but eat that bagel he did, and I saw it happen.
This has been traffic.
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I really like that our dog doesn't get into weird s&#! to eat.
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Hopefully you explain this using appropriately-shaped Christmas cookies as visual aids...I love baking at Christmas time, which always seems to surprise folks because I am a single dude with no kids.
One of the favorite parts of my job is watching the reactions of the undergrads in my human anatomy class to some painful sounding anatomy factoid or medical condition (the cringes from the male students as I explain what "testicular torsion" is often especially satisfying)
I suspect bringing cookies with those shapes to class might be crossing a line....
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You won't know unless you try!
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You won't know unless you try!
Hold my beverage...
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Something weird I like (to return to the thread) is cleaning. I spent yesterday deep-cleaning my kitchen and it was so satisfying... I put on a goth playlist and just cleanse the filth.
I call it:
Bauhauscleaning.
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That's it, mister. Go to your room. (cleans up desk from debeveraging milk).
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My sister got pibble puppies. Eeeeeeeeeeee!!
My dog Buster is part pibble. He is the absolute sweetest dog I've ever known. All my friends like him better than my other dog, Rosie, who has no concept of personal space.
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My sister got pibble puppies. Eeeeeeeeeeee!!My dog Buster is part pibble. He is the absolute sweetest dog I've ever known. All my friends like him better than my other dog, Rosie, who has no concept of personal space.
Their names are Dan and Ann. Ann is immensely tiny, Dan is pretty normal sized for a bull pup. Both of them climb like squirrels and love chewing on ears and noses if you're not careful.
And yes, the names are the reference you think they are, and yes my mother thought this was horrible.
I find it incredibly relaxing to do water changes on my 3 fish tanks, often with aquarium podcasts going on in the background
I used to have recurring dreams that I owned a basement that had dozens of aquariums (aquaria?) that I had had to let someone else care for while I was away. I had this dream for years and suddenly I just stopped having it. I wonder what it meant.
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All of you people who like to clean kitchens PM me for my address. I could absolutely use your expertise. I can't pay you anything, but I hope the experience alone would be sufficient! :)
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I find it incredibly relaxing to do water changes on my 3 fish tanks, often with aquarium podcasts going on in the backgroundI used to have recurring dreams that I owned a basement that had dozens of aquariums (aquaria?) that I had had to let someone else care for while I was away. I had this dream for years and suddenly I just stopped having it. I wonder what it meant.
*strokes chin suggestively*
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♫This is the dawning of the Age of Aquariums...♫
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♫This is the dawning of the Age of Aquariums...♫
I see what you did there.
And yes, the names are the reference you think they are, and yes my mother thought this was horrible.
What is the reference?
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I love throwing on a harness and pulling my kids through the snow on a sled to school, which is a mile away, entirely uphill.
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I find it incredibly relaxing to do water changes on my 3 fish tanks, often with aquarium podcasts going on in the backgroundI used to have recurring dreams that I owned a basement that had dozens of aquariums (aquaria?) that I had had to let someone else care for while I was away. I had this dream for years and suddenly I just stopped having it. I wonder what it meant.
Based on youtube fishroom tours, there are plenty of folks who have made that sort of dream a reality. I have a one bedroom apartment on a fourth floor...but man when I get a house, you can expect some larger aquariums to go in.
And yes, the names are the reference you think they are, and yes my mother thought this was horrible.What is the reference?
Where the Red Fern Grows.
Y'know, one of those Newberry books where the dog dies.
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I love throwing on a harness and pulling my kids through the snow on a sled to school, which is a mile away, entirely uphill.
This seems like a back in my day joke.
Fun Fact: When Crookshanks was a toddler our car broke down, so all winter, once a week I had to walk 4.5 miles to work through the snow.
I can't even walk a complete block now. My vehicle is dead and if I had to walk to places I'd just be doomed.
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After spending six weeks in Europe, and then returning to Alaska...
I miss being able to walk places and actually get somewhere :P
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After spending six weeks in Europe, and then returning to Alaska...
I miss being able to walk places and actually get somewhere :P
Remember: no matter where you go... there you are.
And yes, the names are the reference you think they are, and yes my mother thought this was horrible.What is the reference?Where the Red Fern Grows.
Y'know, one of those Newberry books where the dog dies.
Where the Red Fern Grows was actually the first book of the dog-on-the-front-cover-bites-it variety that I ever read, and may have even been the first book I ever read where a character dies. No, wait, LOTR. At least, I think I read LOTR first . . . childhood memories are fuzzy. I don’t remember much about the plot of WtRFG anymore, but I remember reading and rereading it, so I presume it was quality? Or I just wasn’t very discerning.
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The book is good, and, unrelated, I had impeccable taste when I read the book as a kid, and I have impeccable memories of that period of my life that hasn't been dulled by time at all.
It may have been the first book I read where I determined that the book was better than the movie.
But I had no recollection of those dogs' names.
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I like cooked bacon (streaky bacon for non-USAians) quite a bit. Cheap bacon, upscale bacon, it's all good.
But... given the choice between pre-packaged/bottled real bacon bits and the fake "bacon" bits, I always prefer the fake bits. I like the croonchy pet-food-like-kibble texture and the not-even-close-to-real-bacon artificial flavor.
I really don't mind going to for a doctor appointment. It really doesn't matter which one of the specialists I see now (yes, I'm at the age where I have specialists for darn near everything). I guess I like the attention...lol
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I... I think I really like country Cthulhu & western music.
That is wonderful.
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I... I think I really likecountryCthulhu & western music.
Wow.
Just... wow.
I haven't been this happy since I discovered H.P. Joelcraft.
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I like Conan the Barbarian: the Musical more than a sensible person should.
I'd love to listen to the Joelcraft song but it's to the tune of "Piano Man", a song I loathe entirely.
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How do you feel about Fiddler on the Roof?
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Now that's good stuff!
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How do you feel about Fiddler on the Roof?
I started playing that out of curiosity, and my coworker came across the hall to ask what the hell.
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How do you feel about Fiddler on the Roof?I started playing that out of curiosity, and my coworker came across the hall to ask what the hell.
Excellent.
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So I got my dog a new toy last month. And, it being the season, the toy is a Monkey Santa.
Since then, I've been documenting the adventures of Monkey Santa. Among other things, he's posed for a portrait with the Dowager Doggess, he stole my phone and took a selfie, and most recently, he's gone over to the Dark Side of the Force.
I find this all WAY funnier that it probably merits. Filing under "Something Weird I Really Like."
Those pics are awesome.
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Those pics are awesome.
Thanks! Monkey Santa does all the work, I'm just his humble servant...
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In accordance with prophecy.