Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Things I don't know what to say about.......

This hard-boiled egg for instance. It has boobs. And, I sat it in the lid of an apple juice bottle and took a picture of it. And, I laughed really hard at myself... for thinking the egg had boobs and for taking the picture and for posting it on Facebook. I have 500+ friends on Facebook and only two of those friends thought it was as funny as I did. I think I am cutting my friend list down today and just keeping those two friends. Something tells me a lot of those other people won't miss me.

I also don't know what to say about this lady.

She walks around my neighborhood carrying that black cage. Do you know what's in that cage?

A bird.

That lady walks her bird. There's something wrong with that entire picture. First of all... um... birds fly. How about putting that bird on a really long rope and letting him fly around as YOU walk through the neighborhood? I sure as heck think he'd prefer that as opposed to being walked around the neighborhood in a cage. Because... guess what else? The walk.... it's not doing him any good. HE'S NOT GETTING ANY EXERCISE!!!

What makes that lady think that bird wants to be walked? I bet that is the most frustrated bird in all the world. Not only is the bird being treated like a dog. He has to be walked around the neighborhood where he gets to see all the other birds flying around. I bet the other birds make fun of him too. Poor guy.

And, then there's my husband. He all of a sudden feels the need to embrace characters. It started with the Chick Fil A cow. He sent me the picture one day by phone.

He had written:
In the arms of another heifer as the caption of the picture. He had a moment of clarity before sending the message to me realizing that if he said he was in the arms of another heifer then he was in a round about way calling me a cow.

Something tells me I need to ramp up the affection level around here since he keeps having long embraces with things other than his wife.

And, wanting his picture taken with these things.

Then, there's that dog that lives in my house. The dog's name is Taffy. But, my dad couldn't remember the dog's name one day and fearing for the dog's safety knowing she has to live with me, he asked my mom, "How's Licorice?" He was dead serious too. Hahaha!!

Licorice, Taffy... whatever her name is... she's got issues. As if that wasn't obvious by my recent posts. One day Paul called and asked me if I'd come to the pool and pick her up. Now, why she was at the pool in the first place is beyond me, but I've stopped asking questions and so I drove to the pool to pick her up.

Shelby got in the car too and we were slowly exiting the pool because of the speed bumps. Taffy, being a dog, wanted to sit in my lap and stick her head out the window. Now, having a dog in my lap and driving is about as fun as getting a root canal... but, it's only about 1/2 mile home so I thought I could handle it for two minutes.

30 seconds into our 2 minute drive... Taffy jumps out the window. Now, why on God's green earth would she do that? I mean really! That dog! As I stopped the car to get out and get her, this lady pulls up beside me and she said, "OH!!! I am SOO GLAD that was a dog! I thought it was a kid!"

I can't decide what perplexed me more. The dog jumping out of the car or the lady thinking it was a kid.

Anyway, Taffy has continued to either A) get out of every enclosed space we put her in B) jump 4 feet into the air to squeeze her way through a small hole in the broken glass in the door that is in the garage but leads outside C) try to claw her way to the hole in the broken glass after we've put plywood over it or D) if she can't get out of the cage we've put her in, by the time she gets home she's soaking wet.

Why is she wet? What is the wetness? Slobber? Sweat? Urine? I'm not sure I want to know. And, since I have so much free time on my hands, I have to give her a bath. I am SOO glad we got a dog.

We went to an amusement park the other day and we knew we wouldn't get home until about 10 pm. We left Taffy in the garage. When we were leaving, Paul was talking to Taffy. He said, "Taffy, I fully expect you to have a bonfire going with all the wood chips you've made when we get home tonight."

I thought I was going to die!!

Here are ALL the cages she can get out of it. Yes, she can get out of every one of them.
The plywood she works on in her spare time.

It's hard to see the hole in the glass, but it's there.


Kelly said...

Ok- was seriously laughing out loud about your egg boobs. And then the woman walking her caged bird- laughing again b/c there's a guy at the lake where we walk that takes his two birds for a walk ON A LEASH. Yep, just leashed them and they walk around on him. Gets me every time. I love weird people.

Elsa said...

April, your blog is the funniest thing I ever read. Especially this post! Paul's face killed me in those pics. And the lady who walks her bird?!?! You are hilarious.
your faithful reader,
Elsa Kottmann

Chubby Baby Designs said...

oh yes, the bird walking lady...or at least one of them...there are two aren't there?
And reading the adventures your dog has taken you on...well...I'm just that much more sure we do NOT need a dog. You know God has to be getting a kick out of his creation!

Tony and Rett said...

Bwhahahahaah! I laughed out loud too!

Dude. WHY do you still have Taffy? I mean, I'm a dog lover, but really?

And the egg boobs...wow.