The Tail of the Horny Bitch

So most of you have heard of our new addition, the very cute little Molly dog. She is busy learning the house rules, with the Tommy dog helping.
Molly is very much a beagle, including some early morning howls to wake us up. Of course, if we forget to close the dog gate, Tommy leads Molly into the back of the house to check on us.

Just after we got Molly, we took her to the Vet for a checkup. The Vet said he could not see a scar on Molly’s stomach, so he does not think she was spayed. We ask some questions about what to look for since we have never had a fertile dog before, much less a female.

Two days later, little Molly dog begins to leave little drops of blood here and there.
The bitch is in heat!

So we get dog diapers for her and wait for the hordes of male dogs to start scaling the walls.

Poor, poor Tommy dog! It’s bad enough that this little three-year-old pint-sized dog wants to play all the time; now she wants to PLAY!

Molly will bark at Tommy to get his attention. Then she will paw at this chest or shoulder. Then she slides up next to him and bumps her butt against his. It’s like she is signaling, ‘Climb aboard big boy and I’ll give you a ride!’
Tommy is fixed and couldn’t care less.
Molly won’t take no for an answer! She will bite at his ears, his chest. She’ll mount him from behind, she’ll get on his head and hump on it.
When Tommy has had enough, he will ‘talk’ to Molly (he has a pretty good bark on him) and she leaves him alone for a while.

And half an hour later they are at it again.

We have two more weeks of this fun, then we can get the horny little girl ‘fixed’.

Duckling Tails

Make way for ducklings.

While I was back east, we took a tour of Boston, via the Freedom Trail.
My Boss and his M’ad friend lead the tour, with-
Two young ladies from China,
Three young guys fro Costa Rica
And five young ladies from Cebu. (okay, the M’ad friend is from Cebu too, but it’s my story and I get to tell it my way.)

So, it was while we were trying to cross a street and the Cebuanos were dawdling, that I tried to hurry them along and said, ‘Come on…Come on…’ and they the perfect name came to me! “Come on DUCKLINGS!” I said in a loud voice.
Amidst laughs and giggle, the ladies hurried across the street.

And so they became The Ducklings. It fit so well, since the story, ‘Make way for Ducklings’ takes place around the Boston Public gardens, where we started our trip.
(if you want to know more, look here - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Make_Way_for_Ducklings)

Amusing how one of them asked me, “Why not ‘chicks’?” I know she meant, as in cute, young thing.’ (which she is, but I digress)
I had to explain how ‘chick’ had acquired a bad connotation, as in ‘you can’t do that, you’re just a chick.’
No one uses ‘Duckling’ and it is cute enough.

So Warty has his Ducklings now.

One of them called me ‘Mother Goose’, so I had to correct her and say it should be ‘Father Goose.’ Which made me immediately think of the Cary Grant movie(it’s a fun movie.)

So, that’s the duckling tale.

Molly reactions

Skinner, who owns a male beagle named Buddy said-
"If you wanted a beagle you should have just told me. I'd have packed Buddy up within the hour!"

My son, who owns Enzo (aka the devil dog) a Jack Russel terrier with no off switch said
"She is VERY cute...and looks to be well behaved...want to trade??? No really, I'll pay you!"

A new, the nine billion names of dog.

(sure, only older brother recognizes the title)

Molly Bolt
(bolts out the door)

Molybdenum grease (Yes, Molly grease. Like greased lightning)

A wiggle butt and a wag tail pup.

A Miss Creant

Like any beagle, we know she is up to no good.

Enough silliness-

So the update on the new dog is that Molly the 'no longer fertile beagle' (no, really, we have a certificate from the vet stating that she had been spayed)is doing just fine and is adapting well to her new house.
She knows a lot of commands and obeys them (mostly).

We took her to the vet last Monday, for a check up and have her ear looked at. The vet could not find a scar on her stomach, so he could not confirm that she had been spayed.
Wednesday, Molly went into heat. She is now wearing a little diaper to keep from leaving little blood spots everywhere.

Once she is no longer in heat, we will have her spayed.

With luck, we will be able to keep her safe until she is no longer fertile

Such ugly green eyes

You know my friends, you should not be so.
Neither one of you looks good with green eyes.

You need not be so possessive. Are you not already one of my favorites?

Or am I wasting my breath, because I feel you'll never read this.

New Addition.

We went to one of the local dog rescue places, to look for a new dog for Wonder-Girl. She wanted a smaller dog, maybe like a pug.
Our fifty-five pound Tommy is too large for WG to lift into the car.

So we heard of a Puggle that was available, but overweight. Now a Puggle is a Pug-Beagle mix. Maybe not as many health problems as a full pug, with that goofy looking smashed face. And frankly, I just don’t like pugs.

We got there and the Puggle seemed okay, but not a lot of personality. He was a little bigger than Tommy and very fat! But even if he lost weight, he would still be bigger than Tommy.
And then they let the little three-year-old beagle out of the kennel. She immediately warmed up to Tommy and started following him all around the yard.

Okay, so Molly seems to have chosen Tommy and they both got along very well. WG was torn between both dogs, mostly worried that the beagle would easily be adopted and the Puggle wouldn’t. But the shelter people assured WG that they do not have the dogs put down and always find homes for them.
So we took the beagle, Molly. (Okay, they would have thrown in the Puggle for a few more dollars, but two dogs are plenty.)
And come on, a beagle is so much better looking than a pug. Plus beagles were bred to do something. Pugs were bred to just be lap dogs. Kinda hard for a guy to walk a pug and keep his dignity

Molly has made herself at home and follows commands that Tommy already knows. So despite here being found as a stray, she did have a family that took care of her and worked with her.

She is slowly settling into the household routine and we shall see. But I think she will work out well.

And WG is very pleased with the gift I got her and the Tommy dog helped pick out!

Dealing with the Nubies

So, we have a new batch of Nubies to deal with.

It is so hard to train them, especially since their ages range from 24? to 33?. No, I have not asked their ages, that can be considered rude.

But I do want you to be aware, that I am listening to every word you say, tasting the sound, listening to the feel, playing with the phrases you utter.
And always thinking of their other meanings, what has not been said, looking for a way to make something funny.
And when I say things, at times I am leaving an opening for one of you to say something, if you listen well enough.

You will get points if you catch on faster than others.

Like last night, when we were driving back from dinner and I said that with all of these pretty ladies, the hard part was not playing favorites.
L2 said, “So, you admit that we are all pretty.”

I could not see her, but I will bet she was smiling. Nice catch L2 and nicely played. You get a Ganda point for that one.

Sleeping with my FB

Well, the annual camping trip is coming up and I was expecting to be sleeping in my tent, as usual.
But this year DeepT cannot make it. And FB’s son won’t be coming. So there will be an extra bed available in Fishing Buddy’s trailer.
(Oh, and I’ll bet you thought FB had a different meaning? You have a dirty mind!)

The amusing thing is that I have teased my friends about being wimps because they sleep in a trailer, instead of a tent, and now I will be one of the wimps! :-)
There response is to say that if I had been there two years ago, when it snowed, that I would have thought differently.
But alas, two years ago I missed the snow. I was forced, (forced I say) to spend two weeks in the Philippines. Sadly, business trips sometimes interfere with your life.
(of course we will ignore the truth. That I was made to spend time with my friends in Cebu. Made to spend time with pretty young ladies.
Look, this is MY story and I will omit, or bend, the truth to fit how I want the story to sound.)

So this year, I will find out what luxury camping is like.

Clouds are gathering

I was going to write about fun things, like the veritable plethora of feminine pulchritude that I had to survive yesterday-

However, when I opened my email this morning, there was a note from my high school girlfriend and she mentioned that her husband was in the hospital and she would know more on Monday.
From the tone of the note, there has been some type of problem for a little while. And It does not sound good.

Maybe I am reading more into the email that I should, but since she is my oldest and dearest friend, I am worried.
You don’t like to see friends sad.
Especially when there really isn’t much you can do to cheer them up.

It darkened an otherwise sunny day

Escape to X Minus One leaves me in Suspense

It’s one thing to listen to your iPod everywhere you go, but we all know that we do get tired of our favorite music.

And then I realized that during the long boring drive to and from work, I could be listening to my collection of old radio shows from the forties and fifties!

As most of you do not know; before the invention of television, people listened to the radio for their entertainment. In some respects, it was and still is better, simply because you imagine how things look. This is especially true of Horror and Sci-Fi. Your imagination is always better than the image you see on TV or in the movies. Now these are not ‘books on tape’ being read by someone; these are dramas with multiple actors, sound effects, music.
Escape opened with these lines-

Tired of the everyday grind?
Ever dream of a life of romantic adventure?
Want to get away from it all?
We offer you ... ESCAPE!

And that is precisely what OTR shows enables me to do, to escape.

Right now I am halfway through my collection of X Minus One. It is a series of Sci-Fi radio dramatizations from the mid-fifties.

So I get in my truck, listen to the morning new for a few minutes, then I select the next show on my iPod and lose myself for the next thirty minutes

“Countdown for blastoff... X minus five, four, three, two, X minus one... Fire! From the far horizons of the unknown come transcribed tales of new dimensions in time and space. These are stories of the future; adventures in which you'll live in a million could-be years on a thousand may-be worlds”.

And all of our petty problem go away.

Bees Needs

A few weeks ago some bees gathered in our tree out front. They were not more than eight feet off the ground.
I have dealt with bee swarms when I was young, but since Wonder-Girl is allergic to their stings, I could not capture and keep them.
So I called the local beekeeper group and they would come and get them the next day.
And the guy wanted $100. I told him that the web site states the charges are $50. He agreed to the $50 and came and got them the next day.

Now I don’t mind a small fee, but $50 seems high. Especially since they were in a tree and easily collected. So I had to pay the guy and he gets a free swarm. Bees sell for about $85.
If they were stuck in a wall, maybe I would pay. (okay, if they were stuck in a wall, I would use my Chlordane.) But if the swarm comes back next year and the guy says it’s $100. Then I will tell him it is too high. He can either come and get them for free, or I will wait until late at night, dump them into a box and drive them to the edge of town and leave them there.

The bees will be fine.

Quotes from Bjorn....

My coworker collected phrases he overheard on the manufacturing floor. On his last day at work, he gave us copies.

Things I've Heard….

I have the habit of collecting memorable quotes at work. The only criteria I use is that the quote has to be something that was not meant to be funny when it was said. I have collected quite of few of these quotes over the last few years. All of these quotes were said quite innocently and the humor only came after the statements had sunken in for a few seconds. Usually, the person who said it laughed the hardest because they had no idea what they had just said.
Although many of these quotes sound sexual, I can assure you that almost all of them refer to some part of a system or to a tool of some sort. Whenever I heard one of these, I would write it down in my Newton. (See? It was good for something!) It was my way of capturing the fun we have around here. This is the part I'll miss the most about working here. Now that I'm leaving, I'd like to pass them all on to you as my way of thanking you all for making the last 2 1/2 years so fun for me. I'll definitely miss you all.

Bjorn J.


Sue H.
Quit playing with my springs!
Where's our rubber?
We need some little dikes... go see Paula.
Are you blowing or sucking?
I can't get this hose into the hole.
The last time I saw it, it was in your slot.
Does anyone have Vaseline in one of their little compartments?
I've got trouble down there in the fudge pipe.
I've got rusty nipples.
Any time you put something in front him he grabs it and sticks it.
You can't put it in the other hole.
Do you have any of those shaved nuts?
Are you in charge of nipples?

Paula N.
I'm so sticky!
I want bigger ones.
Let's go play Royster.

Tony T.
I need a bigger tool.

Richard D-M.
I got excited and forgot to wrap the tip.
I've got another 10 inches

Bjorn J.
He's walking around with a lot of little parts.

Steve D.
Sausage tastes good!

Royster M.
Hey Sue! Do you have a 3/8" nipple?

Ruth M.
Monica has some stuck pins.

Hugo Q.
I'm looking for 69... 1888-2-069

Richard 0.
I don't like to touch your stuff unless you are aware of it.

Dan P.
I like that little Wally

A little pain, a little blood

I saw her again Monday. She was one of those people I instantly like, but don’t know why.

About five–four, slim, long brown hair. Large eyes, a nice smile and a pleasant face. More pleasant looking than pretty. The type that is more attractive when she smiles than anyone with just a pretty face. Perhaps about thirty-five and unmarried.

It wasn’t until today, when I shook her hand and looked her in the eyes, that I realized why I liked her. She reminds me of Patch of Gravel. (similar handshake too)

And she seemed pleased to see me, genuinely please to see me.

And here is where I pause in the tale, trying to figure out how much more I should mislead you.

So let's stick to the facts.

Yes, it seemed odd that she was pleased to see. Doctors just see patients. I was one of many. None the less, she did seem pleased to see me, But I digress.
Anyway, she checked the spot on my hand where the mole was removed and said it looked like it was healing well. Still, she seemed concerned. She explained that even though the edges of the biopsy was negative(the center was positive), there was a chance the lab tech didn’t see everything and she was concerned with the lab technicians choice of terms in his description of the non-invasiveness of the skin cancer.
She talked about how the next step would be to pull up the skin and cut off an oval, then stitch it up. If that was needed. She said she wanted to recheck my hand in the near future, but she talked like she wanted to for sure do some more cutting.
We talked about a few other things involved in the treatment and agreed that I would schedule another appointment in six months.
Then she got out the liquid nitrogen and froze the shit out of the site where the mole had been removed. No, I am not exaggerating! There is a half-inch blister on the back of my hand right now. (yes, it burns.)
I wasn’t very concerned with how eager she is to see me again and maybe schedule a surgery until she emptied the liquid nitrogen bottle on my hand.
Okay, so I exaggerate just a little. Just like I might be exaggerating and misleading you when I say that she wants to see me again.
But she seemed to go overboard with the freezing like she felt something was wrong.

So I have a date to see her again in six months. Sure, you say, I don’t mind seeing her again because she is an attractive young woman and very personable.

But I fear there will be a little more pain next time.

And I fear there will be blood.

It’s getting crowded here.

It has been said that there are six people in every relationship.

There is

Who I am.
Who I think I am
Who you think I am.

Who you are.
Who you think you are,
Who I think you are.

I would like to add, that with the advent of the internet and social networks, perhaps we can add two more?

Who I pretend to be.
Who you pretend to be.


It may turn out that I am not really who I think I am. But I suppose it's okay, as long as I remain who you think I should be.

The woman who wasn't there

While at your site, I chose to stare;
At your face, but you weren't there.
You weren't there again today.
I wonder why you went away?

Betty’s little sister.

I walked into our little bank and the teller is still there. She looks like she could be Betty’s little sister.
Slim, petite; just like Betty. But long brown hair and brown eyes.
Reese Witherspoon looks a little like Betty, but Betty is so much better looking!

Now you know what I have written about Betty look-a-likes. (If not, then get your lazy ass in gear and read! Or maybe I should say, get your eyes in gear? But I digress.)

I am kind of in luck, for of the three tellers, the BLA will wait on me. I say kinda, because I want to stare at her face, study it, but I know it will creep her out. So I chat with her as I do my business. Keep my eyes away from her or on her eyes.

Yes, she looks so much like Betty. Same smile, same sparkle in her eyes. I say ‘little sister’ because she looks like Betty did fifteen years ago.

I wonder if Betty needs parts again?

Was it something I said?

One of my friends vanished from the web. Kinda makes me sad. Yes, I have neglected my relationship with her and have not sought her out and chatted with her.

It’s just not been a good five months, but that’s no excuse not to say hi.

I just wonder what happened to her?

I can only hope that she has abandoned the virtual world because she has found something better in the real world.

A close Shave

So I finally went to see the dermatologist about getting an ugly, nasty looking mole taken off my hand. (At Christmas, my doctor-sister saw it and said I should have it removed soonest!)

So the dermy comes in, (a rather nice looking young doctor. I figured she was mid-thirties. But I digress :-), she takes one look at the mole and says it has to come off.
“Shave?” Says the not nearly as pretty nurse.
“Yes.”
So they set things up, take measurements and a picture (I don’t know why they need a picture.)
The Doc sits down at the terminal and enters the info about the mole. “We’ll have to have a biopsy”. She says.
“I expected that. It’s pretty nasty looking.”
“If the results are positive, then you’ll have to come back.”
“Yes, because you’ll have ‘trench work’ to do.”
She stopped typing for a second and I could see her thinking. Rolling the phrase around in her head, feeling how it tasted. Then she smiled just a little. “‘Trench work’, I like that. It will require stitches.” And she resumed typing.
And I knew I had her. She liked my odd sense of humor and she understood it. She was like me in some strange way.
She turned to me, “Just the mole on the hand?”
“No, there is a large mole/skin tag just below my belt line, here in front.”
“Does it bother you?”
“I’ve caught it with my fingernail a few times and torn it when I got undressed.”
“Let me see.”
I pushed the waistline of my jeans down an inch or so and she could see it. (No, I don’t take my pants off for just anyone, even an attractive young doctor with a good sense of humor!)
“We’ll freeze it.” She said.
(Yes, I know what you’re going to say; of course I didn’t want to take my pants off. I didn’t want her to cut off the wrong little odd piece of skin! Well, you can just shut up, smart-ass.)

A few blasts of liquid nitrogen and then it was time for the slice and dice.

A little alcohol, a couple of pricks with the needle and the back of my hand was numb. Then the Doc picked up a thin piece of metal between her thumb and forefinger and it bent into a U-shape.
“That looks like half of an old-fashioned safety razor.”
“It is.”
“Good to see they still have a use for them.”
She smiled a little, blocked my view with a piece of gauze and shaved the mole off .
Neat, smooth, practiced. She dumped the lump of flesh into the sample bottle the nurse held and then started dabbing the wound to staunch the flow of blood.
She looked up at me. “Do you take aspirin?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s working.” And she smiled a little.
Yes, a good sense of humor. Too bad she is a dermy, not a GP. If she were a GP, I’d change doctors right away. And it’s not just because she is good looking. She has a sense of humor. My current GP doesn’t have one.

She finally got the blood to slow and put a large bandage over the 3/8 inch(9.5mm) hole she had scooped out of my hand.

After I got the wound care instructions and a bag of antiseptics and bandages, I was done.

Now I have those classic conflicted feelings. To see the nice pretty doctor again would be a good thing. But if I go back to her office, it will be because the mole was cancerous and she will have to carve a trench in my hand.

I am not looking forward to that.

Imaginary Mistress

It’s been a little over a week, since I had my last cigarette. I have my happy pills and my nicotine patches, so I guess I have all the help I can get.
It’s funny how an antidepressant is supposed to help reduce the cravings. I guess since I do not notice a change in the way I feel, I was never depressed :-)

But the cravings for a cigarette are still there, at times. When we were driving over to visit my Step-mom on Sunday, Wonder-Girl turned to me and said, “You seem to be doing pretty well. Do you still feel the cravings?”
“They come and go. Right now, I could really, really, really use a cigarette. It’s like…
Well it’s like lying next to a naked twenty-year-old syphilitic mistress.
You want to touch her and it would be so easy, but you also know that every time you touch her, your life gets shorter. And there is a good chance it can get drastically shorter.”

Wonder-Girl smiled. “That’s a pretty good way of thinking of it.”

We drove in silence for a while.

So everywhere I go, my ‘Naked twenty-year-old syphilitic mistress’ is right beside me. She seems so alluring and it would be so easy to reach out and touch her.
Feel her in my hands, feel her on my lips. Enjoy the sensation of drawing her essence into my lungs, her smell, what it does to my head.

And from what people at the clinic told me, that she will be always by my side. And for the rest of my life, I will have to constantly say ‘No’. Resisting her.
Forever.

Insubstantial Beings

If Bad Warty is like a dark mist whispering sweet lies in your ear.
What happens if he encounters the Ethereal Miss, somewhere in the aether?
Would their insubstantialness merge into one being?
So that when she licks her lips, he can taste her.