Fur, Tuft, Mane, Mop, Whiskers, & Fluff

It was time.

Definitely time for Gus's annual summer haircut.

My house was filling up with hair.  Hair that began accumulating to create whole new dogs within hours.

Hours!

This little puppy was created in just 5 minutes:

It was like the Gremlins except Gus didn't have to get wet to create new fur ball dogs and he didn't turn into an ugly hairless creature with beady red eyes and shark teeth.

(However I did see one with a cigarette in his mouth.  Please don't tell my landlord.)

So we took him into the groomer lady and she shaved him down. He went from being our massive furry mountain dog....

To our skinny little puppy dog.

Mike and I picked him up a stuffed frog on the way home from the groomer as a little reward.

It's always shocking the first time I see him. But, he looked a lot better than last time.   I didn't even cry.

And neither did Gus.

Chopped

Something else that happened.





I chopped my hair....What?


No, not really, SHE chopped my hair. Oh how I love SHE!

Who Has More Fun?

Blondes?

Or Brunettes?

How To Lose 10 Pounds In One Day

First I just want to thank everybody for your kind words and sympathies about losing Dozer. You guys really have helped me deal. It makes me happy to think that he and his brother Bain are now running around together in heaven causin mischief. Dang cuties!





I'm also thankful I still have my darling gay kitties that make me smile every day.







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My sister has found a great weight loss plan, she lost 10 pounds in one day!


ONE. DAY.


Don't believe me? Check it out, here is Lindee before:







And here she is after:






How did she do it?


She cut off a FOOT of her massive mane of thick luscious locks! If you haven't had the pleasure of meeting Lindee in person, you can't really appreciate how THICK her hair is. It's ridiculous. Her hair was down to her butt at the age of two. I fricken hate her.





But she is fricken cute. She's America's next top model ya know, she's a natural.










Here is the giant trying on my extremely high sandals.





Did you know that she is 6 feet tall? Yeah, you thought I was tall, well my younger sister beats me by two inches.





I won't even get into the size of her enormous feet. I'll just say that my sandals are now stretched out and fall off my size 8 1/2 feet. Al refers to the monsters as skis.


It's quite accurate really.






Now I'll leave you with what Logan and I do best. Makin silly faces.










Thanks for playing, please come again.

I Got Banged

Andrea Banged Me.

Before:







After:





I was sitting in the salon chair and Andrea had just finished blow drying my hair. She swivels the chair around so she can get a good look at me, and says


"We need to bang you."


I tried not to laugh, but being the Virgin Mary that I am, I busted up. I'm sorry, but what would you think if you heard that? Andrea couldn't help but start laughing too.


The two old women in the station next to us were not amused. If looks could kill, we would have died right there on the spot. Pretty sure Andrea would have floated up towards the heavens and I would have been dragged down to hell,


Bangless.




Luckily I still got banged.

How To Give Your Husband A Heart Attack.

Leave a bottle of these on the counter:






Yes, I am taking prenatal pills. No, I am NOT pregnant or even trying to get pregnant. I am taking these pills because they help my hair. One day, many years ago I decided I didn't want to be a blond anymore so I died it brown.

Dark brown.

It was fun, I liked it a lot, but in the end it just wasn't me. So I went back blond which has been a long hard and painful process, but these pills have carried me through! Yay pills, I love you! And Andrea of course, she may have had a little something to do with it.

Apparently my dear hubster was not aware of my prenatal vitamin taking habit when he saw these left out on the counter one day.

Hubster: "Poob, what are these?"

Me: "What are what?"

Hubster, talking very slowly: "Why are there prenatal vitamins on our counter?"

Me, now realizing a great opportunity here: "Well, um, their mine."

Hubster, getting panicky: "Poob, you better not be takin these! Why are you taking these!"

Me, with this fake scared look on my face like I was about to admit something very evil: "Well..."

Hubster: "POOB!"

Me, using my acting skills to appear frightened: "Don't freak out, I've had to take them for a while."

Hubster, with a horrified look on his face: "Poob, you better not be lying to me, this isn't funny!"

Me, enjoying every minute of this: "I'm not lying, I swear!"

Hubster, barely able to contain himself: "What!?!"

Me, busting out laughing: "Silly Bert! I'm taking them because they help my hair and nails! Calm down! Breath...just breath."

Hubster: "I'm gonna kill you!"

He totally thought I was pregnant! Don't get me wrong, we want to have kids, but we have a very specific plan right now of when we will start. Oh man, you should have seen this boys face, it was priceless! I scared him to death, and boy was it fun!

I highly recommend this to anyone who wants to scare the shit out of their husband!

I'll even let you borrow my bottle.

Universe, Are You Trying to Tell Me Something?

Stupid stuff.

I do so much stupid stuff and so much stupid stuff just happens to me all the time. I think the Universe does this to make up for my lucky streaks like winning concert tickets and massage chairs.

Case in point.

Monday morning, I'm getting ready in my get ready room (you know the room next to the bedroom that usually is the baby's room? No baby, hence my get ready room) Now let me set up the situation here for you. When I get out of the shower I stay wrapped in my towel while I do my hair and my makeup, getting dressed is the last thing I do before I walk out the door. And just in case you're wondering, no I am NOT Kristina's naked neighbor, I keep my blinds closed thank you very much!

So I'm sitting in my get ready chair, wrapped in a towel mind you, and curling the back of my hair with my big fat curling iron. I'm using my right hand to hold the iron in my hair when somehow it decides to jump out of my hand. While it has detached itself from my hand, it is still attached to my hair so instead of falling to the floor, it lands on my chest. At the very same time my towel bails out and hits the floor ducking for cover, or so it says, but we both know my towel was in on the nasty prank and and did this on purpose.

Stupid towel.

As the iron starts burning a big fat groove into my boob I'm thinking in my head that I've gotta get this iron off my chest before it is permanently embedded in my skin. So I grab it with my hand, not by the handle mind you, but of course I grab the burning hot portion of the iron which relieves the burning from my chest by transferring the searing pain to my hand.

Finally my smarter left hand steps in and grabs the iron by the handle and releases it from my hair. Now I'm sitting there in shock and confused about what just happened. I run into the bedroom where my hubster was still sleeping and try to explain what had just happened and he holds back his laughter as he comforts me.

Now I have a beautiful purple looking burn on my chest with one on my hand to match. I think I better stick to my heavenly straightner and leave the curling iron alone from now on.

But I believe everything happens for a reason and the good thing from this situation is that my finger tips on my right hand may be permanently smooth and free of fingerprints. I've decided this is another sign from God that I have a higher calling, a hit-woman.

So if anyone needs a "hand" in any "situation", I'm your gal. My rates are reasonable and I gaurantee 100% satisfaction or your money back.

It Pays to Procrastinate

That was the lesson I learned yesterday while I was sitting at my desk at work, listening to my favorite radio station X96.

Let me back up.

Alyse, Andrea, and I will be going to the Fall Out Boy concert in April and I was supposed to buy the tickets a long long time ago but I just haven't gotten around to it. American Idol has just monopolized my time, well, that and all the other shows sitting on my DVR waiting to be watched. Life is so hard.

So back to yesterday, I heard on the radio that they were giving away tickets if you could unscramble the words in the title of a song. They've been doing this awhile now and I had no intention of ever playing because you just can't get through by telephone. But yesterday I just went for it.

I dialed and it was busy. Redialed....busy. Redialed...busy. Redialed..."Hello X96?"

At that point I freaked out and yelled "20 Dollar Nose Bleed!"

I was so loud that I'm sure I woke up my sleeping nephew 40 minutes away! Lo and behold I won! I was so excited but after my little screaming about nose bleeds, people were beginning to peak into my office to see if I was being raped, so I tried to calm myself down and started whispering instead. The radio guy probably thought I was a freak!

I won tickets to the Fall Out Boy concert! Woot! Woot! It's a good thing I'm a procrastinator and didn't buy the tickets a few weeks ago like I had planned! After I hung up with the guy I heard myself on the radio and about died, I sounded like a blubbering idiot!

So now I have a problem. I won two tickets but there are three of us going. To whom do I give the other ticket? Here are my options...

1. Give it to my baby sis Alyse who is a single starving college student but doesn't have a family to feed. Wait, scratch the starving part, she still lives at home, but she needs her big sister's help to get back out into the dating world after having one boyfriend for years. She needs to go out and have a good time, but she was planning to pay for the ticket herself anyway.



2. OR Give it to my fabulous friend Andrea, who after all beautified my hair this week with her genius coloring ability and I think I totally under tipped her! Plus she works 2 jobs, but she too was planning on paying for the ticket herself. (Yes I totally stole this pic from her blog)



3. OR give it to my little sis Lindee, who I had already invited but she couldn't go because she needed to save her money to buy her school books. She has admitted she's not a huge fan of Fall Out Boy but has expressed her jealousy that Alyse and I are going without her.



Decisions, decisions. If you know me, I cannot decide by myself so I need your help!


Who should I give the extra ticket to?


UPDATE: Lindee has now written her plea on her blog of why she deserves the free ticket.

UPDATE #2: Alyse (the baby sis) has now written her plea in the comments as Anonymous. By the length of her comment I think it's time she gets her own blog don't you?

What's Worse?

I'm not sure what's worse, living with kids that spill on the floor and write on the walls or living with animals that constantly shed, track in dirt, slobber on the couches, and puke on the carpet. Not to mention cats who like to carry their poop around the house and stash it under the refrigerator!

Our cute little dog Dozer is guilty of all of the above. Instead of coloring on the walls, he's flipping slobber on the walls, instead of spilling on the floor, he chews his bones leaving nasty crusted remnants that stick to the carpet fibers, and instead of leaving his toys all over the house, he leaves his toys all over the house.

No matter how many times I tell him to put his toys in his basket when he's done playing with them, he just won't do it.

Keeping this dog clean is a never ending challenge. When Al & I got back from vacation, our house was taken over by our furry children. A week's worth of hair, slobber, dirt and who knows what covered the house!


First thing we do, vacuum the dog.




Al was on brushing duty and I had vacuum duty. After an hour of this process, you can imagine all the hair we collected! I will spare you the pictures of the hair in the trash can, it is too gross and pretty embarrassing for Dozer!

Dozer was okay with the brushing, but like most dogs, he is deathly afraid of vacuums so he wasn't too happy with that process.




You can see Smokey (the cat) lying in the background laughing to himself, secretly enjoying the torture going on in front of him. Dozer hated being humiliated in front of his superiors, our cats run our household after all.




But this weekend, I awarded Dozer with this sweet new collar!




Isn't he adorable?




Alex is not too happy about my color choice. I don't know why, pink is in for guys these days isn't it? But Al had to tell Dozer how gay and feminine he looked and Dozer did not take too kindly to that, he is a sensitive dog after all.




I had to explain to Dozer that Al and I don't care what sort of life style he chooses, we not only have human family members with an alternate lifestyle, but our own two kitties are gay and proudly display their love and affection for each other openly in front of us everyday.

After our little talk, Dozer decided that he is secure in his masculinity and will hold his head high and proudly display his new pink collar. So no matter what Al says, the collar is staying! He looks too adorable don't ya think?


Now back to the subject at hand, I want your opinions. Especially opinions of those mothers who have both children and furry children.


What's worse, the messes your animals make, or the messes your kids make?