Posts Tagged ‘bulldogs are evil’

Markup, Markdown

Wednesday, April 8th, 2015

So, uh, remember late last summer when I talked about getting greyscale and black markers to use on that empty sketchbook?

I finally got them. The Prismacolor Premier Chisel/Fine Warm Grey set and the set of black fine tip. Woo! I had some spare coin from Yoshi Day stuff, and they were on sale, so, why not?

Also take that, mobility issues! I was able to hobble from my birdcage to the mailbox and back without getting too worn out. Well, before the following…

I also rediscovered my extreme hatred of a certain puppy gate, it’s such a pain to lock (it’s one of those “sliding door” types that you have to drop the central bar to fix in place). The most tiring part of going to the mailbox was trying unsuccessfully to put this worthless gate back up. It’s not even the primary gate, but rather a backup measure because one of the bulldogs has been known to tackle down the primary gate if she sees a cat, and that hasn’t happened in nearly a year. I’ll try to put that gate back up in a bit, I want to unpack and play with these markers. :D

In Warcraft news, I got my Tauren priest to 100. Bought him the level 90 boost the day after my birthday (level 31?!) and it took me about 5 days to plow through. Again, circumstances dictated such a fast pace because we need more healers in my Horde guild and quickly, and given my recent surge of healer experience, it makes sense that I answer that call to throw bucketloads of five-figure green numbers at people in raids. Though the choice of which of my characters will participate in future raids is ultimately in the boss-man’s hands, I get the feeling he and the officers may ask for Phil over Yoshi, and I am okay with that because I’m starting to prefer healing over DPS.

Typical “female gamer” stuff, right? Remember, I was dealing with some bad healer anxiety up until very recently. Now I love it and I may actually be kinda good at it. :D

(LOL BULLDOGS) Wilson needs a straightjacket

Sunday, August 23rd, 2009

When the thought of being relegated to being the Attic Monster really gets me down, things like the below make me… somewhat glad that I rarely venture down to the first floor. Lamentations of lack of human contact are quickly dashed by the glare of the jerk stepfather who can’t stand the sight of me for reasons I’ll never understand, and– OHGOD BULLDOGS AND CACOPHONY OF WOOF.

I know mother has realized (partially) the stupidity of leaving Wilson and BabyGirl intact long enough to go through one heat (on the grounds of “omg if I fix them too early it will stunt their growth!!1”), and will be getting at least the latter spayed afterwards… but, well, never underestimate the amount of FAIL that goes down on the first floor.

Wilson is so freaking horny that he’s chewing on the puppy gates. Dude wants out badly enough so he can make with the bow-chika-wow-wow.

Yoshi: Wilson looks like he could use a straightjacket.
Mother: He’s been acting crazy, I don’t know why. I want the old Wilson back so I can cuddle him!


Head, meet desk.

OF COURSE he’s nuts. He still has them! AND BabyGirl’s practically shoving her ass in his face. This is, like, the equivalent of Denlan being taunted by bikinified Nimue. Massive, MASSIVE “DUH” moment!

Countering mother’s seemingly-willful ignorance about dog care with facts is either an in-one-ear-out-the-other thing, or worse, her new favored tactic to avoid admitting that she’s in over her head is to question my sources (let’s see… Wikipedia, the same bulldog info sites mother frequents, oh, and father used to have a mess of dog books– that I KNOW mother never read beyond gawking at the puppy pictures– from waaay back when we had the labs in ’91, and I would read those whenever I got bored with reading the medical terminology and anatomy books that got bundled with the encyclopedia set) or claim I’m being too negative/serious and trying to undermine her efforts as a “dog mom.”

“Dog mom.”

Is it me, or does this strike me as actually being creepier than “Octomom?”

If, for some bizarre reason, anyone reading this is EVER considering getting a bulldog (of either the English, American or French flavoring)… well, don’t, unless you have insanely deep pockets or you are related/married to or are a vet yourself. Actually, even then I would advise against it. I’m not saying this because I’m biased in favor of cats, either, because they can be costly too. But if you MUST get a bulldog… do your sanity a favor, and only get one. And get it fixed as soon as possible. And FFS, do NOT skimp on obedience training! I don’t care how repetitive it may be. But, yes, definitely spay/neuter ASAP (I don’t get this “stunt their growth” BS, isn’t that a good thing? Makes them look small and puppy-like longer?)

Because, really, there is no sight more grotesque than two bulldogs trying to– and completely failing at*– having sex.
If that statement alone squicks you out and dissuaded you from getting one… my job is done. :P Else, proceed to the fine print below!

* I say fail because bulldog anatomy is so screwed up because of human meddling on the genetic level that they can’t even put it in. (That said, nothing stops them from going through the motions anyhow. Ahem…) Female bulldogs are effectively reduced to biological incubators when it comes to making puppies as you’re stuck with conducting more or less a doggy in-vitro, and then the puppies’ heads are so big that the mother can’t even whelp them without them getting stuck, hence a doggy c-section. No wonder bulldog puppies are $2000 a pop!

Less Stupid, but Still Stupid

Friday, August 14th, 2009

LOL BULLDOGS: Mother NOW realizes the error in her ways. Partially. Putting aside that bulldog anatomy is so screwed up that Wilson can’t put it in (but he can certainly go through the motions!), mother is freaked out by the shenanigans of dogs in heat that as soon as BabyGirl (ugh, still don’t care for such a pretentious name) comes off her doggy period, she’s getting spayed.

…well, yay for that, but what about Wilson? Sadly I think my explanation of the risks of letting him stay as is became another “in one ear, out the other” thing. Wilson is actually the greater of two evils in this case. Unfixed males can learn to be quite destructive in their horniness, not to mention that the longer Wilson goes on this way, the more likely said behavior will stick even after he gets neutered. Yet mother seems to think spaying BabyGirl will make Wilson not be horny anymore. “IDK LOL” right?

Once more, facepalm, apply directly to the forehead.

Suddenly, Fourth Kitty: Parental stupidity does not end there! I’m brought in to meet the newbie… only for mother to freak out because she can’t find said newbie. After turning the master bedroom upside down, turns out the newbie managed to squeeze underneath one of the endtables with really short (and I mean REALLY short) legs and got stuck.

I suggested stuffing ’em with pillows to block them off (else newbie could get stuck in there again), once more mother fails to grasp the logic. She’s also miffed about Chloe hissing at the fourth ktty. Dur hur hur. “She was playful at the shelter!” my foot, changing environments is akin to hitting the reset button on a computer. Did you seriously think they would instantly start playing? The only known exceptions to the standard rules of Kitty Integration is if you adopt siblings from the same litter, or if you adopt mother and baby together (and even THOSE have exceptions).

Mother was all “I know, I’ll buy more toys” and such. No. Stop. Please, I can’t take anymore of this failing to think and make sense. I told her (tactfully, of course, though it was becoming clear that I was losing patience with her tendency to laugh off her stupidity) that it probably isn’t a good idea and that we have LOTS of cat toys and things as is, so much that she’s tripping over them, and she snaps at me for “being negative” and “second-guessing her intentions.”

She’s still whining about not being able to sleep, so I leave so she can nap… and started writing this post, and 10 minutes later she emerges from the master bedroom all “buh I still can’t sleep.”

*insert Charlie Brown-brand “AUGH” here*

I WISH I could just throw up my hands and walk away, I really do.
But, oh no, I’m accused of “sticking my head in the sand” and “being too serious.” When mother and Evil Stepfather go through the day being all “idk lol” about everything, it would be dangerous if I became anything like that (putting aside that it would be completely against my nature). Someone here has to keep a brain… even though my opinion doesn’t count for crap. After all, I am very rarely, if ever, given advanced notice or warning about ANYTHING and if I take the initiative, I’m shouted down for being nosy.
I could bang my head on the wall but that would set off the dogs and I’d get yelled at for that.

….ffff, Evil Stepfather’s camping the living room. I’m SO going to get the glare of death when the pizza guy gets here, because the sight of me offends Evil Stepfather’s sensibilities. Mother, why did you buy this man an MLB subscription for the Roku box when he has a sub for on the laptop he never uses, and when you know that this is just inviting him to be more of a jerk when I come crossing through common areas?

…ohgod, PLEASE don’t let the bulldogs loose in there. This house screws over the human residents as is by making it a chore to navigate (in the name of puppy-proofing), it doesn’t need to get worse.

Rampant, RAMPANT stupidity! *throws stack of papers in air*

Up and down and back again

Tuesday, April 21st, 2009

Yeah, I’ve had no itch to draw… or do much of anything. I load up Painter and I’m all “bleh, what am I doing…?” and stare at it for several minutes before I either close it or go read forums or, worse, doze off.

Also I still fail at sleeping at night. This is made worse by California being all “lol I want it to be SUMMER!” and suddenly it’s 97F for most of the day. (Oh, Kestine was SO not amused by this, probably less so than me. Poor kitty… fending off ear infection that I’ve spent the past 10 days giving him eardrops for, and now it’s suddenly hot and he’s sneezing lots and lots. He goes for a recheck on Wednesday.)

The MMOs are just to make time go faster and such. There… really isn’t much else to do otherwise aside from other incompletes in my pile. Damn my non-existent confidence and fear of setting off CACOPHONY OF WOOF. Seriously, the slightest unexpected noise just triggers all the dogs into a barking fit… but the part about that which annoys me the most is Evil Stepfather trying to shush them. IT DOES NOT WORK. IT ONLY MAKES THEM BARK MORE. Why does he not get it? Oh, right, he conveniently goes deaf if I try to– yes, even tactfully– mention it.

Also nobody seems to listen to me on why the bulldogs keep snarling at each other… and getting into scraps. Hello, three of the bulldogs are male, one of which is not neutered (mother refuses to get Wilson neutered, she’s all freaked out about anesthesia… WTF). Has nobody considered “same-sex aggression?” And that just about every bulldog breeder around here warns against if you’re going to get more than one? You would think at least mother would since she’s convinced Louie and Toby are gay (I am SOOOO not joking, she’s all giggling at how they teabag** each other while tumbling and, well… look really turned on by it, to put it politely). And yet when they all start fighting… well, not that I would mind a downgrade in the population, but only in the context of them being resold back to the breeders or otherwise transferred into better-equipped homes, as opposed to mother killing them out of anger as she did to Lucky in ’00:

“You know, when they all fight like that… I’m a bit concerned you might snap and get rid of them in anger.”
“OMG why would I do that? o_o”
“*ahem* Lucky…”
“Why do you have to bring her up?” (this was the only time I did, to her, in recent memory.) “You always have to be so negative!”
“I don’t want a repeat of you throwing others away out of impulse–“
“Well nobody’s going anywhere…” *proceeds to coo and babytalk the bulldogs and forgets about the conversation*

Actually, what makes me REALLY depressed about this? I don’t even like these dogs, yet I probably know more about taking proper care of them. These workaround solutions that mother’s using… they’re just workarounds. They seriously need more obedience training, even if it feels like just rehashing the same old stuff. I’m an idiot for agreeing to that 9-month CD, I should have gone with a smaller term because I want to buy mother in-home dog obedience lessons for Mother’s Day but it’s sure to put a huge dent in my checking account… which I am supposed to make last until January. Unless, like… well, no, I did all that repair work for House Cantlay because it was a critical situation that couldn’t wait, and blaaah bad Yoshi no more venting for now.


**FFFFFF I knew I should have taken video of bulldog teabagging and posted it during all the “LOL TEABAGGING” shenanigans. Oh, you people and your double-entendres. :P You want teabagging? You watch the Pups of the Apocalypse.

I even forget my own rules.

Thursday, March 19th, 2009

Specifically, the one about assuming my mother has anything resembling logic or reason.

She bought another white bulldog.


Yeah. You heard me.
Snowflake’s been gone less than a week, and… well, Pigeon demonstrates his amazing powers of seeing the future.

Gently mentioning “isn’t this a bit too soon?” sailed right over mother’s head. And then some, as her response is more like a kick in both the face and the pants: “I missed having a little female wandering around.”

I… um… wow.
I don’t know whether to be greatly offended at the confirmation that I really don’t matter anymore (and believe me, I really don’t need to feel any more alone and abandoned than I already do), or just disgusted at how completely unreasonable the whole situation is.

Mother was laughing off Octomom on the news. WTF. Does my mother not get that she’s the bulldog version of Nadya Suleman?

In other news, on Tuesday I slipped in the shower. My tankiness worked in my favor for the most part since it was more “roll” than “fall” but my upper left arm has a giant-ass bruise from having plowed into the trash can, and that’s pretty much kept me out of volunteer service for at least this week… hopefully it dies down by next week. Sore as hell. Ow.