Yes We Can

How about those election results! Thank goodness that's over with...now I can devote more time to my blogging.

GOBAMA!

Invisible Fence

There are some tasks that you KNOW are going to be worth a blog post…or ten. Installing Molly’s invisible fence is just such an example. I mean seriously…Maeve + Rita’s house + electroshock = Tina Fey territory.

See, Molly is from the “real America” of Tennessee, where you engage in unprovoked attacks on dogs who aren’t even in your yard you never shy away from a fight. Which proves rather disconcerting to our elderly neighbors out walking their shitzhu. So Molly needs a little HELP in…ummmm…”making sure that 4068 Hilldale does NOT become known for its redneck dog and its redneck owner” – just sayin’. [Well, at least it can help with the dog part of that issue].

Once I opened the box for my new wireless invisible fence, I realized the transponder for this thing is the size of a beach ball. I can stream the content of the world wide web on a phone the size of a credit card, but delivering a simple electro-shock requires an addition to the house? I don’t want to lobomotize the dog – just keep her in the yard. (Guantanamo indeed).

The first task in this fool’s folly is determining the settings for the appropriate “boundary line” in the yard. I thought this would be a breeze…measure the distance from the Chevy-sized transponder to the edge of the yard (the radius, if you will), set the appropriate distance knobbie and call it a day.

Let me just say…my ability to map a perfect circle was apparently lost in 9th grade. Who knew this effort was going to require a brush-up on geometry?? I have been waiting 18 years to use that damn hypotenuse theorem and today is the day??? “Radii of given circles are congruent” my ass. I just needed a 14 foot compass for this task and I’d be all set.

Which means I had to resort to the old fashioned method of using the beeping shock collar to identify the “boundary line”….

Which should make for an interesting post tomorrow.

Just one more...

...Sarah Palin post. (I can't help it)


She DOES realize that if she calls John McCain “Maverick” one more time, it makes her “Goose” (and we all know what happened to Goose)

Given its success with regards to Russia, Sarah Palin is off to Arizona - sharing airspace with Mexico and getting a better handle on the risk that soccer poses to our pro-American way of life.

She can’t believe an administration would "out" Valerie Plame. She would just tolerate her.

She thinks the Saturday Night Massacre was Tina Fey’s first SNL skit.

She now finds the Joe Sixpack nomenclature sexist and would prefer you call her Wendy Winebox.

You thought I was going to say something about her $150,000 shopping spree, didn’t you? Well…those with glass expense reports shouldn’t throw stones.

The Healing Power...

Flying into or out of San Diego always makes for interesting travel companions. I’m not saying there’s a lot of hippies on those flights…I’m just saying they don’t look very “pro-American”. On my way to Baltimore on Sunday, they must have been running the misfit express because no sooner had I settled into my comfy seat in the exit row than a disheveled, eccentric looking fellow came sauntering down the aisle and sat down beside me (and I thought they had already caught the unabomber).

Lucky me…this guy is reading “The Secret Worlds of Dungeons and Dragons”. And if that wasn’t enough, he kept trying to cover the thing like he was reading the National Intelligence Briefing or something. Did he think I was going to steal his super-secret orc strategy?

It was only after 500 miles I realized that the dust cover for “The Secret Worlds of Dungeons and Dragons” was a decoy and the REAL title of the book was…"The Healing Power of Cannabis". I love it. This guy totally goes to the trouble of putting an entirely new dust cover so (non-nosy) people won’t see what he’s reading.

I couldn’t help but think of a couple things:

• No WONDER he tried to grab 7 items from the snack-pack buffet…and NO you can’t order a pizza from row 16.
• Given that this was a Southwest flight, what are the odds that my seatmate could even READ?
• Well now THAT would guarantee a strip search at the ol’ TSA station, wouldn’t it?
• Was “The Secret Worlds of Dungeons and Dragons” his attempt at normalcy…dude, we gotta talk.
• Does that particular decoy mean the last non-Cannabis book you read is from 1983?
• The “Healing Power”??? Apparently not for B.O. or paranoia. Just sayin’
• Let me get this straight…I can’t bring a bottle of shampoo on this flight…but Mr. Kaczynski here can bring a pan of brownies?
• Nice Obama shirt

Molly in da house

The first week settling in to SD was a little Molly-centric. Mother of the year, I ain’t. The past week was replete with proud pet ownership moments.

• I made a very Nicolaesque gesture and took Molly to the local vet for an introductory meeting. Once there, however, I couldn’t answer a single question after “what’s your pet’s name?”:
  “Is she on heartworm medicine?”
  “When is she due for her next flea & tick treatment?”
  “What brand of prescription dog food was it?”
  Geez – who does the vet think she is…Katie Couric? Can I use a lifeline?? She finally just said…”You aren’t the primary care-giver, are you?” what does that make me…Molly’s dad??
• Rita has like 18 sets of doors in her house… french doors, garage doors, screen doors. I can’t be expected to lock them ALL. [uh, WAIT….this just in…ummm – I CAN…clearly can…be expected to lock them all]. But on my second night “home” – I headed out to meet friends for dinner when I [shockingly] forgot to bring the good cheap wine. Upon turning back up the driveway, I was greeted by Molly trotting around the side of the house - having ingeniously escaped from the wide open French doors. Not only forgot to lock the door…straight out forgot to close it. [mother of the year]
• Ooooohh Molly…I forgot to tell you about those early morning sprinklers, eh?
• Wow…know what tears up a $7,000 rug? A rousing game of fetch.

=)

My official report

Just to prove that the neo-cons were not finished with their Katrina-fication of the U.S. government…they nominate Sarah Palin for Vice President. Now I know that much of this blog the coverage has been a little vitriolic about Sarah Palin… but I have GOT to throw my two cents in vis a vis Troopergate. In case you missed it, the Alaska legislature released a report two Friday’s ago indicating that Sarah Palin had abused power in seeking the dismissal of her state-trooper ex-brother-in-law. But the best part of the WHOLE thing was that on the eve of the real report’s release, Governor Palin’s campaign released their OWN “official” report …clearing Governor Palin of all wrong-doing.

I absolutely LOVE it. This preemptive self-adjudication got me thinking about a whole RANGE of applications:

• Shortly before Rita arrived home from her three day business trip…I released my own official report exonerating Molly of all rug-compromising transgressions – finding that she has acted solely with integrity, restraint and puppy-like fervor.
• The pseudo-report clearly indicated that the “real” report was just one big ol’ shout-out to the Palin clan. No worries.
• A faux-report of complete exoneration – and you say this person isn’t qualified to succeed Dick Cheney!
• The faux-report went on to include an anticipatory exoneration of Vice President Palin’s entire first term.
• The faux report also took the opportunity to clarify remarks made to Katie Couric…i.e., Kramer vs. Kramer NOT being the Supreme Court’s worst decision. Bad? Yes. But not the worst.
• The CEOs of AIG, Fannie Mae and Lehman Brothers did not know that self-reporting was an available option. They would like to trade their recently received subpoena’s for a very legal-looking, Kinko’s-bound report entitled “If Everyone Else Jumped Off A Credit-Defaulted Bridge….(The View From Under the Bridge)” Their report explained their inability to mitigate obvious risks, while bringing extraordinary severance-justifying value to the organization.

Tom & Jerry

In yesterday’s blog…I alluded to the fact that my Nashville to LAX flight included a Tom & Jerry marathon courtesy of the 3 year old sitting in front of me. A T&J marathon is good for a myriad of observations:

• There’s precious little in life that can’t be solved with a couple of matches to the shoe. I think I am going to recommend it to Henry Paulson.
• Thirty years on and I still don’t know which one is Tom and which one is Jerry.
• The things you can do with a banana peel…
• You know what’s more disappointing to a 3 year old than not being allowed to play peek-a-boo any more? Catching your peek-a-boo partner reading a book on Winston Churchill when they should be watching the T&J marathon.
• That Technicolor is cra-zee, man.
• I don’t care how often you see a cartoon kitty in tuxedo tails…that shit is funny.
• Between the milkman and the paper dolls, these cartoons are anachronism central. Hey Jerry, the 1920’s called…they’d like their zoot suit back.