Note to self: Less PBS, More Animal Planet

My best friend Amy is having some major doggie drama. We had a long talk about it last night. Having been married to Ted for less than a year it seems her newly blended family situation is in crisis mode.

Here is a list of all the critters currently living under her roof:

1. Her husband Ted

2. Her tween age daughter LBL

3. Ted's younger teen age son Sporto

4. Ted's older teen age son Emo

5. Ted's jumping, yapping 2 year old dog Chloe

6. Amy's jumping, yapping and curmudgeonly dog Rita, who is older than dirt

7. LBL's noisy, stinky guinea pig Sprinkles

8. Amy & LBL's cat Macy

9. Amy & LBL's cat Sebastian

10. Ted's 8 year old asshole Schnauzer named Max.

11. Let's not forget Amy, who is also noisy, stinky and yappy.

Max is causing monstrous amounts of trouble. He bites. He pees everywhere. Mainly the problem is He Bites.

I won't get into the details, but I'm sure you can imagine that their house is like an upside down zoo.

Anyhoo... after talking to Amy about her animal troubles and teen angst I talked to my friend Steph on the phone and set about recounting my entire conversation with Amy to her.

Gossip is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of it as a graphic and meaningful exchange of personal information about people other than myself.

Whatever you call it, when I was finished telling Steph all about the demon menace in Amy's household taking the earthy shape of a grouchy Schnauzer, Steph made the following insight:

"Sounds like they need to give Max the Caesar treatment."

I thought to myself, Well that seems kind of harsh.

Not understanding why Steph would immediately choose to resort to such violence and imagining poor old Max being stabbed repeatedly in the back by the entire family with a set of Chicago Cutlery steak knives.

Steph is a dog lover so I shook off my murderous canine mini drama and asked for some clarification.

Turns out Caesar is a reference to the canine behavior specialist who calls himself The Dog Whisperer. I've actually heard of this program, but had no idea that the guy's name is Caesar.

What a relief.

BTW - MDH and I have finalized plans to go on a long weekend, double date with Amy and Ted in June to Philadelphia.

I'm brimming over with excitement over this scheme.

Amy and I would never have attempted anything like this when she was married to Assface. I LOVE her husband Ted for many reasons, but not the least of which is that he gets along so great with MDH. It's like the perfect best friends scenerio when your choice of mate gets along with her choice of mate. Presto Pefecto.

Hurray! I'm For The Other Team

Last night MDH called me into the den to watch a very amusing highlight of the Patriots game against the Washington Redskins. He was all worked up because it seems the Redskins were stupidly foiled by Mike Vrabel. I learned that Mr. Vrabel is not often brought in to participate in the games except for a certain play and that the Redskins were too stupid to recognize that historically without exception, whenever Mr. Vrabel is brought in for that particular play a touchdown is scored by the Patriots. This is exactly what occurred in the highlight that MDH played for me.

He had to explain all these things to me before I was able to comprehend. He added enthusiastically, "It's the equivalent of giving the ball to the Fridge on the one yard line!! You have to know exactly what is going to happen!", chuckling and shaking his head with bemused disbelief. He may as well said, "It's like putting the soup on your head with a ball point!!."

Sports talk means nothing to me.

I think he needs more man friends.

The poor man has had a sports boner all week because the Red Sox are in the World Series and it was super chubby yesterday because not only did we have the World Series going on but also a Patriots football game. We drove like speed was going out of style to get back to Michigan in order to be home in time to start recording sports.

My poor darling is stuck with me as his sidekick and I have never given two shits about sports of any kind. The fact that he hunted me down to have me share in the excitement of a football situation has me slightly worried that I may have led him on Saturday night when I watched the baseball game with him at Amy and Ted's house.

Maybe he was enjoying the game too much to notice that most of my comments were in the neighborhood of about how ugly the Rockies uniforms are (seriously they look like barbershop smocks) and how the one batter guy has a moustache that looks like a 1970's porn star bush. The main thing I came away with from watching the game was fabric marks carved into my face from the sofa cushion and a case of the giggles from the name Coco Crisp.

Here are some other observations:

• Manny Ramiriez seems quite full of himself. He performed some kind of grandstanding slide into home plate and then declared himself safe. I'm pretty sure that's not his job. He also has some kind of whacked out do rag that I swear to god I could smell from here.
  
  
• Until a few minutes ago I thought his name was Manny Rodriguez.
  


• The Rockies uniforms are bad as I have mentioned, and when Ted explained to me that their team colors were purplish blue and black, my response was, "You mean like a bruise?"
  


• The Rockies have no brown fans. Where are the brown people in Colorado? I know they have some but they didn't seem to be at the baseball game Saturday night. It was a sea of pasty white faces in that stadium, except for the one weirdo who was clearly confused and went to the WORLD SERIES WEARING A HALLOWEEN COSTUME. Did you see him? That guy dressed as the Green Giant? What a tool.
  


• The Red Sox fans always look either bored or angry. I know that they have been through a tough time for the past hundred years or whatever, but let's try to lighten up a bit. MDH is guilty of this too. Sometimes he won't even watch the games for fear his enthusiasm will jinx the team.
  
  
• Whoever is in charge of these events should probably have auditioned the musical acts who sing the national anthem. At least get these poor tone deaf yokels some kind of hearing device so that they can be sort of on key.
  
  
• Until about 3 weeks ago I thought the Colorado Rockies were just mountains.
  


• There is something about the nature of grand slams, touch down passes, corner kicks or otherwise amazing sports history making events that makes me urgently have to pee, get a drink or otherwise walk in front of the TV. I can't seem to stop myself and may change my name to Hey Lady Down Front.
  


• Joe Paterno should put a comb in his back pocket and run it through his hair sometimes. I realize that he is a football coach and this post has primarily been about baseball. I'm not quite that stupid. It's just that the boys were also watching the OSU/ Penn State game earlier in the evening and Mr. Paternos hair looked a fright. I figured I'd mention it while I was at it.
  
  
• Oh god the spitting. The spitting. If you are in the habit of spitting that frequently do you sometimes forget yourself and spit indoors too? I have never seen a female athlete spit so I'm not entirely sure it's necessary.

PS - here is the update on the job sitch - NA DA. MDH's interview in Cincinnati went well and he looked like a million bucks, but he was convinced he is too fat to work for this company and joked that the rejection letter probably beat us home yesterday. I am very gullable and believed him.

I've been out of town all weekend and am hoping to hear something today or tomorrow about my own career development. I'll keep you posted.

PPS - In your face Rockies.

Bitter & Paranoid Much Lady?

I hate looking for a new job even more than I hate being unemployed. It's getting to the point where I've become paranoid that all the HR departments in this town have ganged together and had a meeting about me.

HR Tool #1 - Get this Lunch Lady joker. Who the hell does she think she is?

HR Tool #2 - Yeah I know with all those fancy confident sounding words in her cover letters. She seems a right prissy, self-important bitch.

HR Tool #3 - I think we should put out an APB to all the other Tools in our bilious HR network to file her desperate emails as SPAM.

HR Tool #2 - That's a great idea, but I think we should also punish her by letting her find out, through various sources, that people much less qualified than her are getting hired for jobs she wants all over town.

HR Tool #1 - Ah, ha, ha, haha hee! What fun I am having at her sorry expense. You know I suspect, in addition to being prissy and self important, that she is also quite stoopid.

HR Tool #3 - Ooh! Shoot. Meeting adjourned. I've got to get busy planning the mandatory attendance Mid-Winter/Fall Season Gathering of Employees for a Rubber Chicken Dinner, Sparkling Cider Toasts and Bogus Prize Giving To Brown-Nosing Toadies.

HR Tool #1 - You mean the Holiday Party?

HR Tool #3 - No, no we'll have the real Holiday Party after all that employee bullshit. Hey you guys wanna get together for lunch?

HR Tool #1 - Sure but let's make it a long lunch. I've got an interviewee coming in on his own lunch hour later. I'm planning to leave him sweating at reception for a very long time so that he'll be late getting back to his current job. I've also gotta spy on him for awhile and see how much he fidgets and checks his breath. That's always such a hoot!

HR Tool #2 - Sorry can't. I'm busy covering up executive ass-grabbing in a sexual harassment case. Gotta write-up the ass in question for poor performance. You know the drill.

End Scene

If you have read this post and work in the field of Human Resources I hope that you have enjoyed this hilarious spoof of some ridiculous Hired Ranchers having a crazy nonsense conversation. Please click here for a copy of my resume. Whoo hoo! What fun, eh?

If you have read this post and work in the field of Hired Ranching well I just don't know what to say really. How embarrassing. I'm sorry if I have offended you and your profession.