This is what mindless work does to me

So after working a mind-numbing job I hate all day I came home unnecessarily grumpy and proceeded to wonder why on earth no one in the world is paying me millions of dollars to write poems and dance all day. I mean that’s not such an extravagant request, is it? Sort it out universe.

Anyway. After that I proceeded to get more and more tired, which led to being more and more grumpy. However, within the last hour or so I’ve moved on to the more fun stage of being over-tired. The everything-I-do-and-see-and-hear-is-funny-but-only-to-me phase. This phase is great for the first 40 minutes or so before you miss the sleep window and then you’re in the twice-as-grumpy-as-before-except-now-you-can’t-sleep-and-the-world-is-awful phase. But before I get there, I thought I’d go ahead and take advantage of the stupid fun and share with all of you unfortunate enough to be reading this what I spent the last half hour of my life thinking about.

You see, I happen to think I’m pretty hilarious, although only my best friend would agree with me and everyone else thinks I’m just an idiot. But let’s junk with the naysayers and assume for the sake of this awful blog post that I’m right. A long time ago (we’re talking 8+ years) I used to write down what I thought were some highly amusing jokes in a journal and assume that one day, when I was a talented artist (which has/will never happen) I’d compile them into some sort of comic book. I hadn’t thought about that ridiculous notion for many years, but then I started to think about comic books, or graphic novels (I’m hip with the modern terms). Then I started to think about villains and superheroes.

I don’t know why.

Anyways, this train of thought progressed until I got it in my head that I could write an awesome graphic novel centred around my dog, Buttercup, who is very much a villian and a hero in one. Pretty exciting premise, right? If you’re not yet convinced, I present you with this:



I envision her as an impossible-to-contain mega hero with zero tolerance for injustice. She strikes at the slightest infraction of the law, and only with the help of me, her sidekick, can she be contained. She is both menace and hero, loathed and loved. I named her the howler because she likes to bark incessantly at home. It drives me up the wall, but now I realise she must be using her barks to alert her superhero friends of various crimes happening around the world that she detects with her superior hearing powers. It’s all starting to make sense.

Actually here’s an incomplete impromptu list of her powers, as I see them:

  • A bark that deafens and incapacitates foes.
  • Breathes underwater, thus can drag enemies into the depths to drown (she is a water dog so this makes sense).
  • Digs holes which enemies fall into and are stranded until someone comes to dig them out. [addendum: Buttercup leans over the hole and drools on them while they are stuck there. And she has an obscene amount of drool, so this is a particular punishment.]
  • Menacing growl which paralyses.
  • Uncontrollable temper which frightens and strikes fear in the hearts of those who cross her.
  • Humongous canines capable of piercing through an arm, or leg…or heart.


I guess I’ll stop there and go get some sleep before I completely lose it. Feel free to unfollow on your way out of the post.

How to sleep and look cute at the same time

How to sleep and look cute at the same time

Warning: This post is almost certainly useless, and probably a waste of your time.

The other day I tweeted about compiling a post composed solely of pictures of my puppy sleeping. Since then I have been taking a lot of sleepy pictures of him in preparation, thinking that I would need to collect them over the course of a few weeks. But then this morning I decided to take a look and see how many pictures I have already. As it turns out, I have a lot. Presumably I have nothing better to do than sit around taking pictures of my poor, unsuspecting, snoozing puppy.

I realised that if I wait much longer, I’ll end up having hundreds of these pictures, and this post will never come to fruition. Or if it does, there will end up being so many photos that it will be impossible to look at them all before dying. I figured I’d better do it now.

I mean…. on the one hand I could get a life, but nahh… let’s make them into a blog post!

I guess my priorities have been made clear… so here we go:

How to sleep and look cute at the same time, as presented by Rupert.

sleepy1 sleepy2sleepy3sleepy4sleepy5sleepy6Well, I hope you enjoyed that. Feel free to leave your awwws in the comments. Or better yet post a link to your sleeping puppy! Or cat, or fish, or hedgehog… I’m not picky.

Have a good Saturday everyone 🙂

Beware the giant porcupine

Beware the giant porcupine

Rarely does there exist such a thing as a nice, easy, smooth dog walk. My family’s dogs (lovely and sweet though they can be) are of the rebellious type. they usually seek to strip me of my dominion over them, like unruly teenagers set on sticking their middle fingers up at the teacher.

Every time I take them to the off leash park there is some fun to be had; some mischief to be done. I have been yanked over and dragged across the snow and mud. I have chased after them bellowing their names repeatedly until my voice becomes hoarse and haggard as they race after a deer. They have invoked my revulsion by bringing me the corpses of birds, mice, and gophers; their tails wagging and their eyes shining with pride at their accomplishment. I have spent hours washing muddy coats and paws; removing burs, twigs, and essence of swamp. Dismayed though I may be at these things, at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that they are having a happy and fun time, not to mention the reward which comes later: calm, tired, and sleeping doggies.

Of all the grievances I have experienced with these furry red creatures of mine, the worst is undoubtedly the pain in the ass that is meeting a porcupine. Because they do not like my dogs, and my dogs sure do not like them.

And unfortunately, during conflicts between the two, it is always the porcupine who comes out on top.

Let me now recount to you one such recent tale.

My mother and I, during the winter months, like to go walking in a reserved off leash dog park here in the city. This place is protected land and is a known home to all sorts of wild creatures like coyotes, deer, and, of course, porcupines. So on this particular day, when our hour and a half walk is nearing it’s end, and I am foolishly thinking myself vindicated from any unfortunate encounters, one of the dogs suddenly pricks up her ears. It’s Mai (the known trouble maker), and she has sensed some evil afoot. Her nose is high in the air sniffing away like mad, and before there’s anything to be done, she bolts off toward the mysterious scent. Would that she was the only one, but alas no, Mick and Timber, her cohorts, are hot on her tail as they could never miss out on such enticing action.

They are dogs on a mission. No amount of bellowing, whistling, crying, or bribing is going to deter them from their pursuit. At this point I can only hope they have smelled a fellow friendly dog and mean nothing more but to say hello, but within a few seconds, when the strained, panicked barking commences in full force, I give up hope entirely. In the pit of my stomach, I know- they have met a porcupine. As I make my way toward them, battling my way through mountains of freshly fallen snow, I start to convince myself that they will be smart enough to stay away, to keep their distance from the quills. With my mother beside me, the mission to bring these rebels to heel continues. As I trudge my way up the hill, I finally catch up to the commotion, and witness the scene before me. Three dogs and a porcupine in a very large and barren valley of snow. Two minutes ago I am just about to walk to my car and drive home for a nice cup of hot chocolate, and now here I am confronted with three dogs covered in various multitudes of quills, and one giant and very pissed off porcupine.

Time to assess the damage. Miss Mai, the instigator, has escaped relatively unscathed. I guess she learned from the last time, which ended up with her at the vet sedated on a table to ensure all the quills were removed. She has one or two sticking out from her nose which are easily removed. Mick is also relatively lucky, the quills on his face are the next to go. Timber, on the other hand….

timber2Well I think you’ll agree he is not looking so thrilled. Notice the VERY unimpressed expression…


What’s the extreme hate glare for, you ask? …..


Yeah, it’s for you Mister Porcupine.


Timber hates you.

I tried to get a little closer to take a picture of the the porcupine’s face, but he kept turning his back on me and I was paranoid he was going to blast all of his quills at me like some sort of porcupine-grenade. They can’t do that, right? I wasn’t about to test.