Hi everyone, Poppy here, guest posting for Dawg today. Thanks in advance for sticking around to read this whole post, I hope you enjoy it.
One day in June when I was still living back in Vermont France and Dawg and I were forced to use this archaic thing called “talking on the phone” as our daily form of communication I was staring at one of my favorite social networking sites (intentionally not linked) seeing what was new in my notifications section and noticed an advertisement. I never notice advertisements on sites unless my brain renders them interesting, so I stared at the ad for a minute, registering why I might possibly want to process what I was looking at. When I finally understood that I was staring at a super cute and cuddly-looking stuffed animal I clicked through and arrived to Squishable.com where I then saw a plethora of adorable stuffed animals—with a very large price tag. “What the fuck?” I thought to myself. “Why is this plush toy $38? … And $44?!?! Holy shit, dude!” And then I clicked the octopus:
Alone
With Human
“Those are HUGE!” I of course said this directly into the phone, felt slightly awkward about leaving that open-ended, and told Dawg, “go to Squishable dot com and click on the animals. They’re HUGE!” We then both began clicking on each of the animals to see just how large they were and how silly the people who adopted them were with their Squishable poses and we knew right then and there we had to adopt some too.
Dawg agreed to get me Squishy Octopie (the octopus, named Octopie after an adorable card that Stef sent me along with some presents last winter), I agreed to get him Squishy Duck, and we agreed at a later date to get Squishy Dawg (the puppy) to share. A week later and I had Octopie while Dawg had The Duck. Let me just explain to you: The material of these stuffed animals is the softest material I have ever-in-my-34-years felt. It is so soft that as soon as I give a Squishy one squeeze I instantly release all the toxins from my body and euphoric nap time must occur. Really, they’re that soft. I’m not exaggerating. I know you think I’m exaggerating. I know I have a tendency to exaggerate. But, … uh, well, could you just believe me this one time? Because it’s really annoying when I’m telling 100% the truth and you sit there judging the validity of my statements. Ok, thanks, 100%. Really. Do not operate heavy machinery while cuddling with the Squishies.
BACK TO THE STORY… Dawg and I were quite happy with our respective Squishies, sleeping with them every night. And then it was almost July and I got the brilliant idea that I would get Dawg the Squishable puppy (Squishy Dawg) for his not-birthday, because Dawg doesn’t celebrate birthdays. He thinks his birthdate is not to be celebrated, and who am I to tell him that he should, in fact, honor the day his mother, one of his most favorite people in the entire universe, went through all the labor and pain to deliver him into this world? (<— Not guilt. 
) I made sure that Squishy Dawg arrived a sufficient time after Dawg‘s birthday. He called me up for one of our bedtime phone calls and said, “I have a box here.” I giggled because I knew that meant that Squishy Dawg had arrived. I waited patiently while Dawg opened the box with his kitchen knife. *silence* I’m thinking in my head, “oh shit, I did something wrong. I should have waited until my birthday to see if he got the puppy for me.” And then I hear, “helloooooo, Squishy Dawg! What’s that? You’d like to talk to me over on the bed?” (code for “nap time!”) and I knew I did a very good thing.
Such a good thing, in fact, that almost every night Dawg would take a nap before calling me for our bedtime phone call. And, of course, the dork that I am, I got really irritated when one Thursday before Dawg was scheduled to come to France for the weekend to visit me and the kitties Dawg didn’t call me at bedtime and didn’t answer his phone the three times I called him. I was a little mentally CAR-AZY that day and assumed that meant things between us had mysteriously gone to shit and he never wanted to talk to or see me again and [lots of profanities and mean, nasty words are not inserted here]… but the next morning Dawg confessed for our morning phone call, “sawy, I had a conversation with the Squishy Dawg and didn’t hear your phone call.” Score one gigantic asshat point for the Popstar. (Who gets mad at their boyfriend for taking a nap that lasts until morning? WHO?) So, then we had the running agreement that if either of us was being instructed by our Squishies to have a conversation with them before bedtime we’d let the other person know so that there was the opportunity for “good night” and “love you” pleasantries just in case the Squishy hijacked us for the rest of the night.
Fast forward to me suddenly living in New York with Dawg. At the end of my time in France I had moved out of my apartment and in with Break Boy, His Lovely Wife, and their two children, EZA and LLA, who are actually mine but Break Boy and HLW made them and take care of them for me (technicality). EZA‘s birthday is coming up soon so before I left France I asked him what his favorite animals were. He told me “bear” and “rabbit”. So last week I ordered the Squishy Bunny for EZA‘s birthday… and of course I had to also order a Squishable for LLA (pronounced “el-lah”)…
Squishy LLA-fant. When the Squishies arrived I packed EZA‘s into a gift bag but I did nothing with Squishy LLA-fant, because LLA‘s birthday is not until March, and I know for a fact that if I give LLA her LLA-fant when it’s EZA‘s birthday weekend all not-so-goodness will break loose and meltdown will occur. Soooooo, I was going to hold onto Squishy LLA-fant until March, but I did this thing when Dawg came home from work where I told him this story about LLA-fant, but I added, “we could keep the elephant if you like, and I can order her a new one for March… do you wanna see the elephant?” I pulled Squishy LLA-fant out of the cellophane bag he was in. Dawg took one look, grabbed him, and hugged him so hard I could hear LLA-fant gasping for air, then laid right down to have a conversation. Needless to say, Squishy LLA-fant is no longer LLA‘s. And he has been renamed…
to Snuffy, our fourth Squishable. And if anybody’s wondering: Yes, we have plans to grow the Squishable family, but just three more. If we get more than seven we won’t all fit in our new apartment. I’ll be ordering LLA‘s really-for-real LLA-fant soon.
So last night, while waiting for the latest Cereal Wednesday to render, I got to watch a bit of Family Guy.
I have to admit, Brian Griffin is by far my most favorite character. There’s just something about a dog that is smarter than human characters that gives me the absolute giggles. The intellectual sparring that goes on between him and Stewie is priceless.
He also happens to be one of the darker characters of the series… especially as he sits at the breakfast table drinking his wine out of a Big Gulp cup. Throughout the series, Brian not only drinks but he also smokes. A dog who smokes! How hysterical is that? The thing is though, that the cartoon isn’t all that far off with the lack of intelligence of the humans.
There are actually people who would think that Brian, with his drinking, smoking, and drug usage is a good role model. He’s a dog… man’s best friend. He’s white… the traditional color of good in entertainment. He’s been educated in a college… the sign of a higher purpose and intelligence. Yet… he has weak willpower and is easily addicted to the mind and body altering agents. Of course… who benefits from his addictions? Why ”the man” of course! There is no benefit to ourselves from these things, either financially or medically. Needless to say… even though Brian is the smartest of the bunch… he lacks the willpower to control his own destiny.
So as this is Miss Britt and Karl‘s third day of having quit smoking, I offer them the advice that Lois always tells the kids (from Dammit Janet) “Don’t trust whitey.”
We believe in you.
categories: Creative Bones Motion Pictures
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So while hanging around on Twitter yesterday, Dawniemom dropped this tweet into my stream. So I checked out what was going on over at HotBloggerCalendar.com… found out that they were only taking nominations this week… and thus I decided right then and there that I wanted in. Why? Because let’s face it… how often do you think I will have the chance to be in a pinup calendar?
Right.
Never… until now. Not only do I want to be in the calendar… I want to be Mr. October. Yup. Reggie Jackson ain’t got nuthin’ on me! So here’s my opportunity to make something happen… but as usual… I need your help. See, being nominated isn’t just enough… you need a bunch of nominations to become a FINALIST. So… can you go over and throw a nomination my way to help make me a FINALIST???
Don’t think I can pull off being Mr. October? Check out my ”I will fuck your shit up” pose…
I’ll indulge you in my hotness one more time with my ”Oh shit I’m scared!” pose…
I’ve got the skillz. I’ve got the hotness. Yeah… you totally want to nominate me… right?
So I got an e-mail from The Steff. She went with her mom and Lollipop to try on wedding dresses… afterall… the big day is only 6 months away.
So she sent a couple pictures of different dresses.
Some were nice.
Some not so nice.
This one, which apparently was the overall favorite, irked the living hell out of me.
At first I thought it was the it was the lace jumble in the abdominal area that was bothersome… but no… I kind of like that.
Then I thought it was the vertical pleats in the bust area… it seems so blah… and while that definitely is a detractor, it isn’t the sinker on this dress for me.
Then I looked at the skirt. A good long look. I personally am a fan of the poofy dress. In fact, I love and adore the southern belle style hoop dresses. While this dress definitely looked poofy… it just didn’t look like the right kind of poof.
So in my head I started thinking of all the women I could remember in poofy dresses… Melissa Gilbert (Little House on the Prairie), Viven Leigh (Gone With the Wind), and of course Christina Ricci (Sleepy Hollow). That’s when I realized it. The image popped into my skull and seared itself into my gray matter.
The reason this dress is a total crash and burn for me isn’t because of WHAT it looks like… but of WHO it reminds me of…
Feedburner hacked! from Boris Veldhuijzen van Zanten on Vimeo
Welcome to another edition of the Sunday Smorgashboard… bringing you the best and tastiest morsels from around my own blogosphere. With Tropical Storm Fay bearing down on the southern US, time is of the essence. So let’s begin!
Avitable made a huge announcement about his Halloween Party this year… and he has t-shirts! I’m all about the Dave2 Limited Edition.
As a really special treat, Dave2 revealed the ”Making of the Avitable Neverwas Halloween Party T-Shirt”. I found this to be ultimately fascinating as a view behind the scenes from the creator of my favorite gear (that came this week and caused much rejoicing).
Turnbaby has photographic evidence of the elusive Mennonite Electric Tool User. Those guys who have a Bigfoot in the freezer ain’t got nothin’ on Turnbaby!
B.E. Earl has a great post about the disappearance of the Bermuda Triangle. I suppose we may never know…
Pat over @ Belchspeak provided some interesting insight into why The Clone Wars is rated PG. I’m not sure what kind of guidance a parent can provide about Baby Hutt‘s burping green smoke. Don’t be a baby?
Sourpuss reveals what happens when good bear builders go bad. Just for the record… I despise Build-A-Bear for the simple fact they fired a co-worker of mine because she was late to work after an elderly woman fell down the subway steps, and my co-worker got stuck holding traction for 30 minutes on a mid-shaft femur fracture which made her late for work. Corporate mongers.
Fantastagirl had the best response to a weigh-in request I’ve ever heard. I’m all about giving my excess weight away… any takers?
Winter gave Motley one of the most important fundamentals of life… because its all about who’s got the biggest balls of them all. It’s all about the balls… really… all about them…
My dearest Poppy did a guest post for Karl this week. Her post addresses the impending end of times (tomorrow) when Karl and Miss Britt quit smoking. There is still time to become part of their Quiterati… so what are you going to quit with them? Coffee? Soda? Chocolate? Marijuana? I think I’m going to quit these time consuming Sunday Smorgashboard posts.
Have a good week!
As a reward for feeding me with my internal thirst for reading materials… I designed this simple button for those who may want to display their Snacked upon status proudly:
Additionally… because I am beyond benevolent and loving contrary to what some people believe… here is the code for you to use with a permalink directly to this post. So if your blog was snacked upon today, all you need to do is copy and past the code:
Smorgashboard Sunday is a weekly compilation of interesting posts, pictures, and videos that I have found within the 350+ feeds of personal or personal related blogs that I currently read. Due to the volume of blogs and the 10-12 posts I limit myself to comment on, there may be times when posts that you author do not appear. This is not to say that you did not have a good post, or an important post, or even a post I did not read because in all likelihood I did indeed read it. This simply means that for that week(s) that you are excluded… well… I thought other posts were better choices for the Snacking. This does not mean I don’t like you, I don’t love you, or that I don’t read you. It just means that for that week(s), I chose other posts but there is always the possibility of next week. Unless.
Unless you cry, whine, send me e-mail messages begging me to feature you, send e-cards with links to the posts you want linked, tell me how I don’t love you, tell me how I don’t like you, tell me how sad you are, tell me how I don’t read you even though you know I did because I commented that week, and/or try to muscle me with threats of large “goombas” paying a visit. If you do any of that… then hold your breathe until you see yourself on the Smorgashboard again. While your doing that… go get a white hat and get yourself some Smurfberry Pie ‘cause you’ll be blue before you see it.
