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Wednesday, July 22, 2009

How to give a cat a pill.

How to Give a Cat a Pill (followed by How to Give a Dog a Pill)

Pick up cat and cradle it in the crook of your left arm, as if holding a baby. Position right forefinger and thumb on either side of cat’s mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right hand. As cat opens mouth, pop in the pill. Allow cat to close mouth and swallow.
Retrieve pill from floor, and cat from behind sofa. Cradle cat in left arm and repeat process.
Retrieve cat from bedroom and throw away soggy pill.
Take new pill from foil wrapper. Cradle cat in left arm, holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force open the jaws and push pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut for a count of ten.
Retrieve pill from goldfish bowl, and cat from top of wardrobe. Call spouse from garden.
Kneel on floor with cat wedged firmly between knees. Hold front and rear paws, ignoring low growls emitted by cat. Get spouse to hold head firmly with one hand, while forcing wooden ruler into mouth. Drop pill down ruler and rub cat’s throat vigourously.
Retrieve cat from curtain rail, and get another pill from foil wrapper. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered figurines and vases from hearth, and set aside for gluing later.
Wrap cat in large towel, and get spouse to lie on cat with head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of drinking straw, force cat’s mouth open with pencil, and blow down straw.
Check label to make sure pill is not harmful to humans. Drink one beer to take awy taste of pill. Apply Band-Aid to spouse’s forearm and remove blood from carpet with cold water and soap.
Retrieve cat from neighbour’s shed. Get another pill. Open another beer. Place cat in cupboard and close door onto neck to leave head showing. Force mouth open with dessert spoon. Flick pill down throat with elastic band.
Fetch screwdriver from garage, and replace cupboard door on hinges. Drink beer. Fetch bottle of Scotch. Pour shot and drink. Apply cold compress to cheek and check medical records for date of last tetanus shot. Apply whiskey compress to cheek to disinfect. Toss back another shot. Throw away tee-shirt and fetch another one from bedroom.
Call fire department to retrieve fucking cat from tree across the road. Apologize to neighbour who crashed into fence while swerving to avoid cat. Take last pill from foil wrapper.
Tie the little bastard’s front paws with garden twine and bind tightly to leg of dining table. Fetch heavy duty pruning gloves from shed. Push pill into mouth, followed by large piece of fillet steak. Be rough about it. Hold head vertically and pour two pints of water down throat to wash down pill.
Consume remainder of Scotch. Get spouse to drive you to the emergency room. Sit quietly while doctor stitches fingers and forearm, and removes pill remnants from right eye. Call in at furniture shop on the way home, to order new dining table.
Place “Free Mutant Cat from Hell” ad in local newspaper and ring local pet shop to see if they have any bunnies.

How to Give a Dog a Pill

Wrap it in bacon.

The Messiah (an opera in unending parts)

“The Messiah” was interesting .. lol .... it was good but if I ever want to go again within my life time hand me a revolver with a single bullet in it will you.

Somehow I didn’t realize it was opera .. I thought it was a symphony performance .. I can take raw music .. but when they make it into stew as in opera .. well my musical taste buds felt like fingernails on a chalkboard… As music The Messiah is great .. as opera .. I was tapping my toe (no not with the music) .. and listening to my hair grow.

The conductor was about 5’ 3” in height .. but he got over that problem with hair .. not shoulder type long hair .. but poofed up back-combed stuff .. Lots of it .. made his head look very big .. but not his brain. .. He was a pompous little bugger ..(For example, he stopped everything to tell me to stop smacking my bubble gum. I kept my mouth shut when I chewed .. after that. .. So when he told me to stop blowing bubbles I told him to make up his mind!) Whenever there was a pause for the next stanza ..(They were more like chapters and there were 50 of them) he would turn to the audience and stick out his chest .. and bow (as much as his tightly strung girdle would allow) amid waves of thunderous applause .. from the guy in the 16th row left. .. who seemed to have the same haircut . At the half time he paused and smiled then without a word, jumped down from his 3’ platform to the stage .. and goose marched off .. followed by the other 4 opera squealers. (two men and two women who sat on the front edge of the stage in dress uniform .. evening gowns and tuxedos and took turns singing the ‘lines’. ) The lady facing me absolutely wouldn’t laugh .. My whole family .. all 5 boys and my daughter and myself were screwing faces at her. .. Giving her the finger .. picking boogers out of our noses .. she still didn’t laugh or even smile .. till my son did some silly pantomime and fell backwards offh the back of his seat. She smiled .. and her make-up cracked!

I didn’t know this but you probably knew that there is no rhyming or melody allowed in opera .. especially if they sing in English … but they are allowed to repeat the same line 5 and 6 times at variable tones.. which sort of passes for rhyming …. in some circles .. I guess.

The part I liked best was the part where the audience was supposed to snore … there were these two guys in front … who were able to snore in harmony .. They might have been a bit loud but during the “hallelujah chorus” we could barely hear them cause the choir was booming so loud

and honest .. I had read that we are supposed to ‘sing along’ during the hallelujah chorus. And I know over half the words too. ….. But the conductor said that he didn’t need my help in getting audience participation.

and then at the end when the conductor got a bucket of roses on his regulation 2nd encore I was a bit miffed .. I figured the lady with the ‘cracked make-up’ was more deserving!!! .. Even though she didn’t come back for the encore.

Ma tried to wash her garden slacks but couldn't get 'em clean
She decided that she would soak 'em in a bucket o' gasoline.
It worked all right. She wrung 'em out then wondered what she'd do
With such a heavy bucket load of explosive residue.

She knew that it was dangerous to scatter it around,
For Grandpa liked to throw his matches on the ground.
Somehow she didn't dare to 'down the kitchen sink',
Just what the heck to do with it, poor Ma, she couldn't think.

Then Nature seemed to give the clue, as down the garden lot
She spied the revered edifice that graced a sacred spot,
Their Palace of Necessity, the family joy and pride,
Enshrined in morning-glory vine, with graded seats inside;

Jest like that cabin Goldylocks found occupied by three,
But in this case B-E-A-R was B-A-R-E----
A tiny seat for Baby Bare, a medium for Ma,
A full-sized section dedicated to the Bare of Pa

Well, Ma was mighty glad to get that worry off her mind,
And hefting up the bucket so combustibly inclined,
She hurried down the garden to that refuge so discreet,
And dumped the liquid menace safely through the centre seat.

Next morning old Grandpa arose; and before he broke is fast
He rubbed his eyes and wandered down, three sheets upon the mast
He 'marked that "Darned, this morning, it do smell as fresh as paint;
with all that cheese from yester eve I'm not sure if i c'aint;

To smoke me pipe an' meditate, an' maybe write a pome,
For that's the time when bits o' rhyme gits jiggin' in me dome.'
He sat down on that special seat slicked shiny by his age,
And looking just like Walt Whitman, a silver-whiskered sage,

He filled his corn-cob to the brim and tapped it snugly down,
And chuckled: `Of a perfect day, I reckon this the crown.'
He lit his weed, it soothed his need, it was so soft and sweet:
And then he dropped the lighted match clean through the middle seat.

His little grand-child, Rosyleen, cried from the kitchen door:
Oh, Grandma, come quick; there's sompin wrong; I heared a dreadful roar;
Oh, Grandma, I see a sheet of flame; it's rising high and higher...
Oh, Grandma dear, I sadly fear our comfort's caught afire.'

Poor Ma was filled with horror, at them words o' Rosyleen.
She thought of Grandpa's matches and the bucket of benzine;
So down to the garden geared on high, she ran with all her power,
For regular was Grandpa, and she knew it was his hour.

Then graspin' gaspin' Rosyleen she peered into the fire,
A roarin' soarin' furnace now, perchance old Grandpa's pyre....
But as them twain expressed their pain they heard a hearty cheer----
and beheld the old rapscallion squattin' in the duck pond near,

His silver whiskers singed away, a gosh-almighty wreck,
W i' half a yard o' toilet seat entwined about his neck....
He cried: `Say, folks, oh, did ye hear the big blow-out I made?
But now I best be crawlin' out this dag nabbit wet....
For what I aim to figger is----Just what the heck I et?'

the 'lectric fence

Now I didn't write this .. but I loved it. It was one of those pieces going around the internet so the author himself probably doesn't know whose it is. But it will pull belly laughs from deep inside you .

We have the standard 6 ft. fence in the backyard, and a few months
ago, I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in the entire
city. To make sure this never happened to me, I got an electric fence
and ran a single wire along the top of the fence..

Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made
for 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8 ft. long ground rod, and drove
it 7.5 feet into the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more
you have in the ground, the better the fence works.

One day I'm mowing the back yard with my cheapo Wal-Mart 6 hp big
wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I
knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower
around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the

It seems as though I hadn't remembered to unplug it after all.

Now I'm standing there, I've got the running lawnmower in my right
hand and the 1.7 giga-volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind
the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of
an upside down cow on fire on the cover.

Time stood still.

The first thing I notice is my pecker trying to climb up the front
side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the
lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that
Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I
was literally at one with the engine.

It seems as though the fence charger and the piece of shit lawnmower
were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.

Science says you cannot crap, pee, and vomit at the same time. I beg
to differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied
3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind
of bowel movement, where time is creeping along and you're all leaned
back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times. It seemed like
there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close together
it was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand.

At this point I'm about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto
the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I
can't let go. I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric
fences.....but Dad always had those pieces of shit chargers made by
International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda

This one I could not let go of. The 8 foot long ground rod is now
accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river
bottom soil. At this point I'm thinking I'm going to have to just man
up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas.

'Damn!,' I think, as I remember I just filled the tank!

Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a
loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in
it. Covered in poop, pee, and with my vomit on my chest I think 'Oh
God please die... Pleeeeaze die'. But nooooo, it settles into the
rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller
cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner's right foot.

So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity,
standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take
me that day.....he left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in
the misery my own stupidity had created.

I honestly don't know how I got loose from the wire...I woke up laying
on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It
was later on in the day and I was sunburned.

There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and
then another long skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I was
on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure
and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire.

Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things:

1- Three of my teeth seem to have melted.

2- I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek
(not the left, just the right)..

3- Poop, pee, and vomit when all mixed together, do not smell as bad
as you might think.

4- My left eye will not open.

5- My right eye will not close.

6- The lawnmower runs like a bugger now. Seriously! I think our
little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because
it was better than new after that.

7- My nuts are still smaller than average yet they are almost a foot long.

8- I can turn on the TV in the game room by farting while thinking of
the number 4 (I still don't understand this....)..

That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things.. I
appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to
make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow.

The good news, is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I
can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT
gives me a warm tingly feeling all over, which also reminds me to
triple check before I mow

Cottonwood Hollow

My ex and I get along sometimes. And I always got along great with her family. So I got invited to the wedding of her niece. It was a strange situation all around .. let me set up the scene first. The story is totally dependant on the scene and the characters so you will enjoy the set up as much as the punch line.

1. the Wedding is an Outer Limits Affair.
This neice was a small town girl and she was marrying a small farming community boy. The reception was at a little community called 'Cottonwood Hollow' located about 25 miles east of 'Warm Lake' which is just the other side of the end of the earth. Cottonwood Hollow is not really a town. It has no store, just a community hall and a church. It is a very tight knit (translation "inbred" group of farmers).

Also part of this senario is the fact that I grew up in a small town (about 200 times bigger than Cottonwood Hollow - "Canadaville" population 10,000) about 100 miles to the south. Due to my church background, 40 years ago, I had known 'everyone' in Cottonwood Hollow. I mean everyone! So while I was related to the bride, I was all but related to the grooms family too. (Woulda been, if Ruby M. had caught me on the hay ride many years ago. ) This was gonna be a Canadian Appalacian wedding!!!

2. The Wedding is a Homey Affair.
So the wedding progressed. The master of ceremonies at these things is no expert and this one couldnt tell jokes without insulting people. The father of the groom cried inconsolably. The mother of the bride (my ex sis in law) was 6 months divorced. The Father of the bride had brought his new wife. The reverend was a brother of my sisters childhood friend twice removed and three times fattened up for market. The matron saint in charge of the food was the only sane element in this super friendly event of a lifetime. I had always liked her cause she made the best potato salad in the world and she could organize the important stuff at a function like this.

3. The Family I was with is a bit strange (present tense used on purpose)
Now a bit more of the color here. My ex sister in law, the one who is recently divorced, the one who is the mother of the bride, is feeling pretty down at having to look at her ex husband and his new wife. (The father met his new wife met on the internet before he left my sister-in-law.) My S-i-L foresaw this so she "brung her own cavalier." This 'cavalier' was a rather stiff 50 year ol bachelor accountant. He's Ichabod Crane incarnate and hes totally out of his element. Nice guy that he is, hes trying to fit in, but he wants to talk about balanced books and insurance. We all treat him like family. And so do the familys at the wedding. The Cottonwood Hollow Clan is nothing if its not hospitable. He was having a great time with all these new but strange friends.

4. The dance is old-time-informal
After the meal they cleared out the middle of the room and brought in the band: "The Wailing Henrys". YeeeeeeeeeeeeeHawwwwwwwwww it was going to be a wild knee slapping dance. And it was .. and it was fun. Great fun. Like we had when I was a kid.

Now the Story:
So now here we are. A wedding dance just over the boundary of civilization. Having a great time .. 5 polkas, 3 walzes and two Beatles into the evening, when someone calls for the "funky chicken dance". This is kinda like the macarena .. but not. .. kinda like the butterfly .. but not... or maybe the conga .. nope not really that either. .. anyway its where we all line up, usually male female order, and glide/slide around the dance floor flapping our elbows and flying with our hands out wide .. super fun. My ex is behind me and my ex sister in law is in front with her 'accountant friend' in front of her.

We are doing the funky chicken when my ex leans forward and tells me that her sister is feeling low. "Let's get her mind off her problems".

(My antenna went up at that .. wondering what are you trying to get me into now?) ..

"Goose her!!" says my ex.

The dance is moving .. I was thinking .. okay .. lets see where this goes. So I goosed her. (pinched her butt for the uninitiated.) .. She jumped .. and turned to scowl at me. Thinking quickly, I looked back innocently and replied " What???? .. dont you guys do that down south?" ...

She didnt say a word but just kept funking. I reached forward and goosed her again. She turned around ready for battle.

I looked at her innocently and said "You're supposed to pass it on!!"

She looked at me a bit confused.

"Pass it on!!" I encouraged her indicating her cavalier/escort/accountant friend.

When she leaned forward and goosed him I almost laughed.

He turned around and looked at her funny-like. surprised.. flattered... confused .. not knowing what to think or do.

She whispered to him in a voice loud enough that I could hear it. "It's what they do here!!! .. You're supposed to pass it on. " ..

He smiled a big willing smile and turned around and immeadiately pinched the ass of the lady in front of him. ... .

They still tell the story in Cottonwood Hollow of how big Ellen Hatch knocked out the skinny accountant at the wedding, with just one blow.

I crumpled to the floor beside him, laughing so hard my legs gave out.

This story is mostly true .. I was there .. :)