Duh, what’s up Doc? Duh…

I had a pet rabbit once.  Rabbits are stupid.  Yes, they’re cute and fuzzy and soft, but underneath the surface…they’re cute and fuzzy and soft.  In other words, there’s just not a lot of synapses firing in there.  I dunno, maybe I had a particularly stupid bunny, but from what I’ve seen and heard, it was pretty average.  And by average, I mean stupid.

Case in point:

NOM NOM NOM.  From my new most favorite website, http://www.epicpicsofwin.com

NOM NOM NOM. From my new most favorite website, http://www.epicpicsofwin.com

This of course does not include bugs bunny, who is very very smart, not to mention delightfully snarky.  But then, he’s a cartoon character, not a real bunny rabbit.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, is my dog.  My dog is a FREAKIN GENIUS.  People ask me if my dog is smart.  In answer, I tell them she does my taxes.  They laugh, because they think I’m kidding.

I’m not.

Ok yes I am.  But if she could grasp concepts like the US Tax Code and the use of a computer, I’d totally let her do my taxes.  I’d probably get more money back.  I could start up my very own tax consulting business, and I’d give her her very own office complete with buckets of liver and salmon treats and her very own ball boy to toss her tennis ball three times a day for an hour.  And a wading pool.  And sticks to chew on, that won’t get all splintery.  She’d do people’s taxes, and then play with her tennis ball, splash in the water, and I’d be rich, because duh, my dog can do people’s taxes.  And people would pay me to have her do their taxes, and they’d tell their friends that a dog does their taxes, and they saved OODLES of money, and how cool is that?

Don’t believe me?  Well, forget about the fact that she knew more commands at the age of 6 months than any stupid rabbit.  Forget that she is probably the most awesome dog on the planet.  You want unbiased proof, well here you go.

I took her to the Doggie Dash on the waterfront when she was 15 months old.  They had a frisbee competition that day, and any dog could register to compete.  I knew she was a fetching fool with balls, but she’d never even SEEN a frisbee before.  I’d read that it’s not a good idea for young pups to jump too much, and frisbee is just begging for jumps, so I hadn’t exposed her to that yet.  This would be her first time.  15 months old.  Never seen a frisbee.  And competing against probably 20 other dogs, many of whom have seen a frisbee, and knew what to do with it.

My dog came in FIFTH.  FIFTH!!!!!

So there.

Check out my post on OurPDX.net about the 22nd!!! annual Oregon Humane Society Doggie Dash, coming up on May 9th.  Jessie will be there, but she’s pretty good about not being all elitist and rubbing your face in the fact that she’s a genius.  Me, I have a bit more trouble with it.  Proud mother, I guess.  But…

<whisper whisper growl grunt bark bark grunt>

Um.  Jessie says I should quit being a crazy proud doggie mom.  So, sorry.

Gauntlet+Lint= Lintlet

Strange things happen on Twitter.  Well, strange conversations at least.

And even stranger, in my particular tweet stream, many of them seem to involve @StephStricklen.

Yep, our very own KGW Live @ 7 anchor.  She seems to attract strange conversations on twitter, and apparently this also extends somewhat to her blog.  She attracts people, well-meaning readers I’m sure, who peruse her blog on occasion and slam her for the dumbest shit.  For instance, one lovely chap complained – on her blog – that she should just stick to the news, and quit talking about other, non-newsy stuff.  On her own, pretty much personal, blog.
Her response?  She wrote a blog about lint.  Navel lint.  Yeah.  You rock, girl.

But of course  me, being who I am, gotta give her crap for writing a blog about lint.  LINT.  At which point she told me it was the safest of the topics that were suggested to her.

Well.  When you put it that way, I’d say lint was a safe bet after all.  And I alluded to the fact that now *I* wanted to write about lint.  To which she said if I wrote a post about lint, she’d totally read it.

Well.  The Lint Gauntlet has been tossed, my dear.  It has been tossed.  The Lintlet, if you will.

So first I had to figure out what kind of lint I would write about.

  • The dryer kind?  I have a friend, we’ll call him Mark, who has the nickname of Safety Warden.  Because of him, I’ve become a stickler for cleaning the lint tray after every drying cycle.  No thank you, scary dryer fire!
  • Or how about the navel kind?  I tend to collect very little, as a rule.  Strange, since I don’t have the protrusion issue that Steph is experiencing these days.  But this guy knows more about navel lint than you ever thought possible.
  • Perhaps you prefer the Lindt kind of lint.  They make those little Lindor truffle balls you see everywhere.  My fave is the hazelnut, in case you’re wondering.  I’d say that’s probably my favorite “Lint”.
  • For some reason, Lindt makes me think of Liszt: “Women fought over his silk handkerchiefs and velvet gloves, which they ripped to shreds as souvenirs. Helping fuel this atmosphere was the artist’s mesmeric personality and stage presence. Many witnesses later testified that Liszt’s playing raised the mood of audiences to a level of mystical ecstasy.” Which of course leads me to one of my favorite Bugs Bunny episodes (Oh?  I didn’t tell you I was a Bugs fan?  Yeah.  My secret’s out, crap), Rhapsody Rabbit, wherein Our Hero is playing Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody #2.   Phone rings.  “Eh, what’s up doc? Who? Franz Liszt? Never heard of him. Wrong number.”   Heh.  Of course, you’d have to know he was playing Liszt for that to even be remotely funny.

And with that, my Ode to Lint, and also randomness, is complete.