Angry Bird Meat
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I was out at Toys R Us the other day and saw that they had a basket of Angry Birds plush toys.
Heli-Lazer Point-Copter
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I got this totally awesome remote control helicopter for Christmas this year. It’s just a little guy but it’s SO COOL and it makes this noise: whirr.
I also got a LAZER (laser) pointer for my dog to chase around, and thus I had this brilliant idea: Helicopter + LAZER = So much Awesome! However:
- the LAZER pointer was too heavy for the little helicopter to lift and…
- Daisy couldn’t give two shits about a little red dot on the ground
As soon as I turned it on, she glanced at it.
Looked at me.
Sighed loudly, and walked away.
Damn you dog! Chase IT!
I don’t get it – my brother’s dog goes crazy for his, leaping around from couch to couch like a coke addicted silver back.
My dog? Totally disinterested.
Like I should be so brazen to think that something as pedestrian as a LAZER TECHNOLOGY would impress her.
>:(
The Root of the Problem
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I have a dog, a Springer Spaniel/Husky mix. She’s very cute and very awesome but she sheds fur like Robin William’s back waxer.
This is a problem for me because I loathe doing any kind of house work, especially vacuuming. It’s annoying, my vacuum sucks (LOL SUCKS GET IT) and I’m terrible at it.
“How can someone be terrible at vacuuming? It’s just driving the the vacuum around all over the floor, what is so hard about that?!?” I hear you ask.
FEED ME A CAT
Well I don’t know what exactly goes wrong but by the end of it, I’m dripping with sweat, stumbling around my condo in the dark, looking for the electrical panel to flip the breaker that was blown because my vacuum narrowly avoided catching fire whilst trying to suck an entire bathmat through a 2 inch diameter hose. Then I spend at least an hour prying the bathmat, lamp cord, chair leg, shoe, and whatever else I’ve driven over, from the clutches of the spinny brush thing.
I don’t know how my vacuum has enough power to mutilate an area rug into a doily, but still can’t suck up the smallest and lightest little tufts of dog hair tumbleweeding around my place. Piece of shit.
So every once in a while I get the bright idea that I will get to the root (LOL ROOT GET IT) of the dog hair situation and just vacuum the dog. What a great idea! Get the hair before it gets to the floor! She has so much less surface area then my whole condo! This is hundreds of square feet less work! I’ve done this about 37 hundred times now, but each time it’s brand new and I applaud myself for being the most genius of geniuses that there ever will be. Oppenheimer probably took his dog to a groomer. Pfft, what a loser.
The problem is that my dog HATES the vacuum. Even the sound of it turning on gets her on edge. I know I have to approach my new genius plan with finesse: I crouch, and I pounce. Crevice tool in hand like a Knight’s lance, I spear towards my dog with all the precision of someone that can’t even vacuum a floor. This, naturally, scares the ever loving shit out of her and she runs away like her tail is on fire.
If I can manage to corral her, it always ends up the same way. I parry and she counters by biting the end of the vacuum hose. No matter what I try to do, she ends up with the hose end in her mouth chomping on it like it’s a dead squirrel. I swear my dog could win a gold medal at the Olympics for vacuum cleaner fencing. She is now convinced it is a game and with each successful block, she smiles at me and wags her tail and barks.
Wagwagwag barkbark! Wag wag bark! Yes, yes, good for you. Sigh.
The net effect is: no vacuuming of the dog happens; more hair ends up on the ground from all the wrasslin’; and I’m once again sweaty and pissed off at the fucking vacuuming. Stupid Oppenheimer, so smug.
Aww
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I’ve got this page open in firefox and look at it everyday: http://tinyurl.com/yd4lmsn
It makes me want to quit my job and start a tiny zoo. I could live in a tiny house, sleep on a tiny bed, wear tiny hats and use tiny, tiny cutlery.
But then I think about the pooping.
Dear god the pooping.