Thursday, 31 March 2011

My dog is special...

I have an eight month old golden retriever named Layla (after the Eric Clapton song) She is quite special in many ways one of which is that she is extraordinarily happy, everything is awesome to her. Take this and the fact that I'm pretty sure she has ADD makes for a pretty interesting time, for example when playing one of her most favouritest (I hereby declare that a word) games tug of war, she'll suddenly stop and stare at the curtain wag her tail at it, give it a little bark and then look at me with a whatcha doing expression.

Layla: Whatcha doing?
Me: You seriously don't remember what...
Layla: Holy Crap! That thing! It is back!
Proceeds to chase her tail.

Hi there!

She also likes to bring us things, mostly it is dirty socks (she has a thing for socks) other times it's stuff she either dug up or chewed up. 


When she wants to give us her little gifts, I must admit I kinda ignore her because at that time the last thing I want to do is touch a stinky gob soaked thing. So I close my eyes and look the other way.

Laa dee daa I don't see you *whistles a jaunty tune.

But then this happens:

See me now, Bitch?

Another thing about Layla is that despite being a golden retriever (A dog that is famous for their love of water) She can't swim and to add insult to injury, she is actually afraid of the water. We've managed to get her to sit on the top step of the pool when it's really hot but then we can't make any sudden movements or loud noises. Swimming that day was as much fun as playing marco polo with Helen Keller. (Family Guy quote-yay!)

And for a dog that is so energetic she can be quite lazy:

Yes, chewing the ball while lying down

And now just some cute photos of the little satan's mistress tyke...
I should totally send these in to a porn site with the labels  "Hot bitch, long tongue, ice cream"

Monday, 28 March 2011

As a teenager I'm pretty much useless (part one)

Being a teenager in this day and age can be terrifying not in the sense that we get beaten and dragged behind a horse if you don't complete your homework like in the good ole days. No, what I'm talking about here is technology. In my vast nineteen years I have found that the older generation (especially the golden oldies) have this odd concept that just because I am teenager I can work out any problem concerning anything to do with technology.

Let me give you an example:

Distant relative: "Chelsey! Oh good, maybe you can tell me how to change from normal TV
 to DVD option.
Me: "Umm...I can try?"
Distant relative: "Of course you will dear, now here is the DSTV remote and the TV remote and the DVD remote.

At this point in the story I should tell you that I'm deathly afraid of other peoples technology. For some reason I always think that if I push the wrong button something disastrous will happen like chocolate will become obsolete or less severe, the world blowing up. It doesn't help matters that the remote they give me looks a little something like this;

While prodding at random buttons and praying that something of importance will happen soon I will inevitably push the one button that will make the TV emit a high pitch cough and then suddenly turn off. Now this might not seem like a big deal but in my mind I had somehow broke it, like I had somehow found the correct number sequence for the TV to self construct.

What it looks like in my mind

In reality...It's just switched off
 I don't know if I'm the only one that suffers from this or if this problem is quite common.

Thursday, 24 March 2011

Hornkey Dong

I am a huge animal lover and before you even begin to think of dirty thoughts. No, I am not the animal lover that thinks, wow look at that donkey dong all swaying and brushing the ground and stuff *drool
Actually that was just gross, forget what I said there unless you are into that kind of thing and just so you know, I am judging you. You are one sick puppy (See what I did there :D *wink wink, nudge nudge...No? Okay.) and you should probably go see a therapist or something. Pervert.

Please don't touch me where I pee.
I have gone completely off subject, where was I?
Umm, yes of course, loving animals in a completely platonic sisterly way but that is boring so I am going to tell you the tale of the time of the hornkey.
Well when my mother went shopping for some stained glass, the shop where she bought it from happened to be in the middle of a large field filled with horses and a couple of ponies. I was bored within two minutes and as usual went exploring where I happened to come across a mule or as I like to call them a Hornkey. It was quite adorable with its white coat and weird eye flapper things to keep the flies away, like a robot donkey from outer space.

While staring at Optimus Prime (I renamed him) eating an apple, the crushing realization hit me. I did not know the difference between a donkey and a pony. I went into one of my daydreams, the one where I was a contestant on Who wants to be a millionaire.

Presenter: "And now we're back from commercial and we have with us Chelsey, she only has one question to answer for the million dollar prize."
*starts sweating and simultaneously farts quietly
Me: Nods and smiles in a nervous but excited manner
*lights dim and scary music starts
Presenter: "Okay, your final question is; What is the difference between a donkey and a pony?"

Me: "...Shit."

I phoned boyfriend while staring at the hornkey.

Boyfriend: "Hello my incredibly gorgeous girlfriend who I am very lucky to have."
Me: "Oh stop!" *Starts blushing

At this point boyfriend pointed out to me that that wasn't how it went, I told him that he was wrong and he didn't know what he was talking about.

Me: "You'll never guess what I found out about myself!"
Boyfriend: "Err...What?"
Me: "I don't know the difference between a donkey and a pony!"
Boyfriend: "This is what you phoned me for?"
Me: "Yes!"
Boyfriend: *heavy sigh "I'm actually kind of bus..."
Me: "That must mean that they are the same thing!!!"
Boyfriend: *heavier sigh

The conversation goes on for another fifteen minutes while I list all the things that donkeys and ponies have in common.

At that point I was very excited ( wouldn't you be?) and I wanted everyone on the farm to know my amazing discovery. I was rushing to my mother when it came to me. A donkey has a different tail and longer ears but in my excited mind I didn't care because in that moment I was sure I had changed the world with the discovery that ponies and donkeys were the same things.
When I finally got to the shop I had forgotten what I was so excited about and looking back maybe that was a good thing, maybe the world isn't ready to know that donkeys are actually ponies in an ugly disguise.



Wednesday, 23 March 2011

Crying doesn't make me look good.

There is a game I like to play with myself, It is called Think of poor starving animals that have incurable diseases and stop feeling sorry for myself game. Maybe you are wondering why I said animals and not children, maybe you aren't but I am going to tell you anyway because this is my mother effing blog. The answer is quite simply I love animals and I barely tolerate children. Not all children mind you just the ones that act like minions of the dead and their sole purpose in life is to make the most heinous noises ever heard to man kind. The kind of child I would push into a busy street and when the mother looks at me with gratitude in her eyes I would be like. "No thanks necessary ma'am." and then jump onto my mighty unicorn and ride over the rainbow. But I digress... back to the subject at hand...*Tries to remember subject*
*Gets distracted by kitty cat

*Yells at cat for clawing off a button on the keyboard

*Finally remembers, the be grateful for not having an incurable disease game...something something

  Okay so this game is not fun but I play it when I feel like I'm having a mood swing. Sometimes it works...

This is me, I look exactly like that

 Sometimes it doesn't ...

I don't look this cute while crying

I look more like this...
 Unfortunately I am not one of those girls that have a small sniffle and one tear running down their perfect high cheek bone. Oh no, my crying face consists of a red swollen nose that is dripping mucus everywhere and because of the dripping mucus nose, I can't breath so I do so out my mouth. This causes me to do those weird hiccup things while unbeknown to me drooling all over my pillow/friend's shirt...etc. My eyes are so bloodshot and puffy it looks like I spent a hour in a heavily chlorinated pool. So all in all I wrote this blog just to tell you that when I cry, I leak bodily fluids out of every crevice on my red swollen face.