whispering jack

It seems I am really bad at this blogging thing. I don’t even really have any excuses. Well, I was flat out busy last week (busy at work, busy at home, even busier at work, somewhere to be every night — although this seems like a very normal situation for some people, it stresses me out because I am LAZY) and this weekend I meant to accomplish lots of things, only now it’s Sunday morning and sunny and I have a cup of tea and I am listening to songs from lacroix (I like ‘Math and Physics Club’, although I feel compelled to point out it should be ‘MathS and Physics Club’ and also, who has clubs for those things? moving on) and I am waiting for some washing to finish washing and I can’t remember what all those things were, those things that were so important. This always happens to me. And then I get to Monday and I am angry I haven’t done half of what I meant to do. But who wants to write a list for their weekend?

The Black Dog is not doing so well now the weather is a bit colder – he has stiffened back up and he can’t bring one of his paws down properly. (If you think of how an animal (or a person I guess) walks, a front leg comes forward and then the foot extends and they stand on the foot – Black Dog can’t extend the foot easily, so he lands and walks with the foot tucked in on itself, so he walks on his knuckles. Or to prevent this he swings his leg out sideways so his foot can stay extended.) (Originally this paragraph was one long sentence, but I ran out of breath so I went back and put some full stops in for your comfort.) But considering he couldn’t stand up at all a few months ago, he is still OK. He is seeing a dog whisperer on Thursday, only this person seems like a cross between a dog whisperer and a Crazy Lady. She’s recommended by the Black Dog’s physiotherapist, with a caveat on the Nuttiness. I have no problems with animal whisperers in general – it makes sense that some people would have a greater rapport with animals than others. But this lady apparently has actual conversations with the dog, who tells her what he wants and where he is hurting and what his problems are. Mr. T and I are a bit worried about what the Black Dog will tell her about us. The current favourite is “WANT MORE BISCUITS”. Or perhaps “WANT MORE BONES”. He has a pretty one-track mind. Anyway, she saw him briefly yesterday at physio (shut up) and they had a brief conversation. Well, Black Dog stared intently at the biscuit in his physiotherapist’s hand, and paid no attention whatsoever to the dog whisperer as she ‘talked’ with him.
She said, “He’s saying there’s something wrong with his ear. Does he have ear infections?”
“… No. In fact, never in his life has he ever had an ear infection.”
“Well, it’s definitely something about his ears. Maybe his inner ear?”
(This is when I had to bite down so as not to point out that it was obvious to all that the dog was having trouble walking, he has balance problems, so pointing out an inner ear problem was hardly rocket science.)
Maybe I will not attend the dog whisperer session. I’m sure I will just be flagged as ‘unhelpful’ and the dog will no doubt ‘say’ something mean about me. “EATS FOOD IN FRONT OF ME AND DOES NOT SHARE”. Yeah thanks dog, way to dob me in.

gooooogle

Ah, eBay. Allowing me to buy things while sitting on my arse. I’ve mentioned this before, I think. Hey, at least I don’t know my credit card number off by heart. That would be going too far.

Here’s a meme that’s old and yet I somehow want to do it. Answer the questions using pictures you have found on Google Image search. Apparently you’re supposed to use the first picture but if I didn’t like that one, I didn’t. I’m a rebel and I’ll never ever be any good.

Your age on your next birthday:

Don’t ask me, ask Google.

Your favorite colour:

Again, this is ‘green’ to Google. I’m just doing what I’m told here.

Your middle name:

I had to go a fair way in to find an image that wasn’t porn. Nice.

The last meal you ate:

Delicious.

Your bad habit:

Apathetic laziness? I’m so there. Or I would be, if I could be bothered.

Your favourite fruit or vegetable:

Not square, though. Although I’d give it a go.

Your favourite animal:

Not from Google. Sorry. And don’t tell the other dog.

The town you live in:

Beautiful one day, perfect the next. Oh wait, that’s Queensland. My bad.

The name of your pet:

OMG! Black Dog is exposed!

Your SO or best friend’s nickname:

Apparently.

Your crush’s name:

Although not really. It just seemed like the thing to do. I object to the word ‘crush’. It all seems a bit Dolly magazine, circa 1988.

Your occupation:

Again, not really, but that’s what came up on the search and hey, maybe I should wear a name badge. And get a haircut like Eddie Munster.

Your birth city:

They told me I was born in a hospital but I see no traces of one.

Your favourite song:

You give me that funny feeling in my tummy.

link session

I have internet back, sort of, and I would like to show you a linky path:

From Erin* to Mia* to THIS. And I cleaned dog wee off the carpet this morning and I’m only wearing one sock, but I think I know what I’m talking about, and you can trust me when I say THIS IS THE INTERNET, RIGHT HERE. This is what it’s FOR.

technical difficulties

Hi. My internet is broken. Namely, the laptop won’t see the wireless network. Actually, it can see all the neighbours’ wireless networks; just not mine. It is wilful and stubborn and I must break its spirit.

Also I am watching South Park and Satan is dressed as Britney Spears. It strikes me that this is an excellent costume party idea. Usually I spike my hair up with soap and go as Something About Mary.

… Clearly, the internet has gotten by without me for a week just fine.