Scottie Observation

My brother has two Scotties that could not have more different personalities.  I’ll be the first to admit that I am not a fan of smaller dogs, viewing them as belonging to bigger dogs and in the future would like to see a big dog with a leash walking a little dog.  I digress.

These two little Scotties I admire and find hilarious in their own way, and  I did discover a little common ground that both dogs share.  They both jump up in amazement whenever they let out a little lewd toot.  Eyes wide as can be they immediate look at us after the audible A-Bomb and ask in their puppy dog way, WHAT WAS THAT?  Of course I had the pleasure of feeling the force in motion while the dog was on my lap.

Oh little ones, that was nature in full force, keeping the balance.

Lacking Control

Good Evening All!

I of course have to apologize for starting off strong and just leaving this blog to collect dust. I offer you this amazing photo by Woxys!

And as a second form of appreciation for your patience (as if the image wasn’t enough) the following story was there whilst I was in person.  So excuse any typos or lack of clarity as I will most definitely be laughing till it hurts while I try my best to recreate what really happened.

The Smelly Dinner:

We all know the long days of work during the winter where it seems like the only glimpses of daylight we see are the brief glare of the sun during the morning commute that always raises fist in ire, and the stolen glances out the window.  It is no surprise that when returning home in the darkness after a long day of grown up stuff that one cannot help and have a lazy dinner.

I came home as the clock struck six to see my roommate stirring on the couch like a little puppy, excited for some human contact (contrary to the amount you get from the glow of the tv).  Naturally I was excited to see my buddy as well, which was reflected in my initial outburst of “So what can we make quick for food.”  My friend, we’ll call him Preston,  had the same thought running through his mind as he pointed to the microwave and said “I’m already on it.”  I looked at the microwave and saw a bowl of spaghetti covered in plastic wrap and knew immediate that I was out of luck in the manipulating my friend to cook department.

The ding of my failure announced the triumph of his feast as I went to work scrounging through the shelves to start a quick dinner.  With that goal accomplished I sat down in the chair which rested comfortable next to the couch where Preston set up camp.   I noticed the bowl of spaghetti was sitting precariously on the arm of the couch, but had to look away to soothe my grumbling stomach.

After a brief cooling period Preston found it was time to grab a drink and go to town.  Now to describe the living room, the couch had a long rectangular coffee table that was just as long as the sitting area on the couch a mere foot away from the couch.  So in order to get up one has to stand and do a shimmy to the end of the coffee table to obtain freedom.

Well Preston stood and started the shimmy too much amusement on my part, his left foot leading the way past the arm where so gently his bowl of yummyness sat just behind his rear.  Like it was preordained by fate, as soon Preston centered his bowl of food right behind him, he bellowed a great roar, like sounding the seventh trumpet, as his food in the maximum blast radius received a new seasoning for him to enjoy.  Now my friends I could only briefly capture his reaction of shock and awe as immediately as this happened I found myself on the floor laughing as hard as I could.  Yes this was a ROFL moment that was oh so pleasing to continue laugh at.

Preston turned around and immediately hung his head as he uttered “oh man!” that was quickly drowned out by my bellows of laughter.  Like a prisoner walking to the gallows, Preston in immediate depression went to get the water that triggered this event of defeat, and laughter.  Upon returning to his food he sniffed the scent of his meal, finding the subtle nuances of pepper and garlic, hoping his nose will not pick up the hint of ass.  With a final glance at me, including a shrug of the shoulders, he threw more pepper on and went to town.

To this day I realize the threat of a lazy evening and making a lazy dinner can have lazy consequences when it comes to maintaining equilibrium.

I Return!

Great news! I’m looking to get back into the excellence that is maintaining homeostasis and will updating this blog more often. Lately I’ve been witnessing prime examples of relief that must be shared as well as mature experiences of my own. I realized the other day the need for updates as I quickly saw the phrase “fresh start” and thought it said fresh fart. Classic.

I have also gone mobile and of course my first update in a while, this update… is from the can.

The Silent Killer

It was a nice warm summer morning I-495, Pdawg was driving happily towards Boston.  In his care were four young lads anxious to see the joys of the amusement park awaiting them.  It’s Pdawgs first summer with the kids, but he has had made many trips so far with his work after school.

Kids being kids they do so many things in cars.  Play eye spy, poke each other, throw food, and the best part: Nap.  Mr. Dawg thought that he has seen everything… but boy was he wrong.

Glancing forward to the minivan in front of him, and the Rav 4 behind him, Pdawg was itching to push down on the gas more to speed things up but of course being the responsible adult figure, had to stay in the caravan.   He pressed skip for the next song, as the music was queueing there was an ominous silence in the car, an odd silence that if one paid attention to more, disaster could have been averted.

Slowly but surely things began to change.  The hairs on Pdawgs neck began to prickle as a faint odor began to flirt with his nose.  He scanned the car and saw the kids with smiles on their faces, mentally took inventory of his last buffa before assuming that it was the youngin’ in shotgun that decided to do some crop dusting.

The flirting continued, and continued… and soon the smell began to get stronger… getting to second base with his schnoz.  Quickly did it round third and before he knew it, the offending odor took residence in his car… with a vengeance.

Coughing in disgust and noting how impressed he was, he quickly rolled down the windows from some alleviation.  Unfortunately for pdawg rushing oxygen plus fart equals worse smell.  By this time the car was roiling in stink, kids began tearing up in the back and one lad in particular proved to be the weaker of the bunch.  With a wail and a cough, he tried to hold it back as the pungent smell was encouraging him, it was a losing battle.
Pdawg looked back in horror as the kid leaned forward and spilled his spaghetti-O lunch on the floor of his car.  Everyone screamed.  To amend the previous equation, massive stink + vomit = death.  With life on the line Pdawg quickly pulled over and got everyone out of the car.  A few more minutes of the toxic smells could have spelled disaster, and Pdawg could only shake his head as the rest of the Carvan pulled over to see what was wrong.

“Not a flat” Pdawg said to one of the other drivers, as he began to gather McDonald’s paper napkins to tackle the mess.  “Just one silent, but deadly killer.”

The Boof Strikes Thrice.

It was a blustery warm morning as the digital clock on the vcr silently sounded seven times… and then waited thirty-seven more minutes. It was a peaceful morning as everyone was dreaming of nicer things, or just darkness depending on the amount of tea consumed the previous night (and yes tea is a substitute). Myself and what I thought were three others were sound asleep, counting our sheep.

I was beginning to stir, no sense of my surroundings yet, and that’s when nature took over. By pure instinct, perhaps even ingrained as a survival reaction to waking up after tea, I proceeded to let loose the hounds of the boofa with an enormous loud and rumbling as if there was an earthquake (as there was, just from the rear) and finally ending as suddenly as it began.

But much like the earthquake that strikes as the plates slide, aftershocks struck the otherwise peaceful domain… with a vengeance. The shaking startled my eyes wide as I realized that it was not a dream, but me apparently relieving a great amount of pressure. Understanding dawned on me as one eye opened to take in the strange living room from the couch. This was not my room. I looked over at the other couch to see the poor soul who was the recipient of my sound to see eyes, still closed, soundly sleeping.

Expelling a sigh of relief, I then looked directly below me, not three feet away, to what I thought were two lovers (it turned out to be four poor souls instead) right in the danger zone. My face began to flush as my fears of waking everyone rose, and wanned as I realized the offending audibles went unnoticed.

Satisfied, but not balanced, I went ahead and let loose the last siren to punctuate my return to dreamland.

Stop, Drop, and Bail

There comes a time when every venture to the store becomes something much more. You never know if that hint of rotten eggs is really some spilled yolk, if if that smiling face to the friendly fellow passing by you is their hidden joke. Chances are it is exactly what you think it is.

Brian and Jane were meandering through the isles one serene Saturday, perusing the goods to chance along a certain deal. Half paying attention to the sixth item pointed out (to be fair it was a red tag special, half the fun is spotting those red tags) when a certain tingle began in his schnoz. Curiosity at first lead to the mistake we all make when it comes to this event, and that is tuning out all the senses to focus on this particularly double edged sword that we call smell.

Brian looked over at Jane, perturbed that she was still eagerly looking those red dots. Upon less concentration of smell and more of sight he might have noticed Jane’s eyes take three quick glances to each of exits to the isles. Touch working perfectly as she grabbed his arm and innocently said “oh over here!” Again looking behind as another innocent began a similar search for such bargains. Little did this gentlemen know of the great deal on smell he was going to partake in.

Brian allowed himself to be lead around the corner to see Jane’s should start in a chuckle. Already identifying the smell, he rolled his eyes and peaked around the corner at the gentleman, now staring dazed at a poster on the wall. Source identified. Sighing, he continued on hoping to provide enough distance to abate the horrendous smell.

With a question for the chap at the register, they got in line behind another gentleman, eager to purchase his bounty.

Waiting in line, a crowd of three proved too much. Brian’s nose wrinkled as slowly and swiftly a WMD in the form of smell wafted into his senses. He stared at the back of the gentleman in front of him and almost through him. It was like the whispering wind that filters through the hills at dawn, bringing a soft and unexpected breeze. True this was unexpected, but unfortunately it was not a breeze. Just as he was reaching out to say something, Jane tugged his arm and redirected him down the aisle and out the door.

Quietly, with a soft chortle and a splitting grin she whispered “It was me.”

Oh those poor souls, hoping to find their bargains and instead, like a game of battleship, hoping this aisle will be a miss, and the WMD known as the SBD will not sink their battleship.

The Aforementioned Pupper

Serenely slumbering, unaware of the inner maelstrom that could prove to be her downfall.

The Surprise is in the Eyes

The weekend was a cloudy, rainy one. The kind where you put the socks at half mast and just lay back on the couch hoping something good might ever come on tv, or sleep will take you instead. Either way it’s a win-win. My pupper had the same idea, as she lay sprawled on her bed, and it is orthopedic, so no worries about those old bones. Utter comfort was achieved, or so I thought. Little did I know that the apex of comfort really occurs when it is punctuated by the allieviation of one self. In short I was shown true comfort by the rumbling of the dog farts.

Enraptured in her sleep, when the mini earthquake occurred, just a little one, it got both of our attentions. Not only did this surprise me, but it surprised the little fury offender who promptly sat up and looked at me, wondering what hell happened. Bemused I half tempted to call her over for a pat of comfort, but wisely realizing the mistake in that. Would I sooner open a carton of milk and upon smelling the bitter sourness of spoil, then proceed to put it in the treasure that is my cheerios? I don’t think so.

It left me wondering how many times that little animal surprises herself with those little poots (pupper power poots if you will), and what a life where you not only did not know the nature of thunder, but your own body worked against you in efforts of mimicking this horrid sound.

It made me curious of the lion of the Savannah stalking the gazelle in the tall grass. Should such this even occur, who would be more surprised, the lion or the gazelle?

A Question of Pitch

So my friend Davis, who just got engaged last weekend, current works at GameStop while he’s finishing school in Maine.  I know this maybe be hard to believe, but at times the clientele of GameStop aren’t necessarily the most hygienic of customers one could hope for.  Well one fine day, or perhaps overcast, (alas I was not there!) and this young lad and lass walk into the Stop O’ Games to peruse the merchandise.

Unfortunately this lad was one of those aforementioned not so hygienic customers and with the eye opening smell announced his arrival and unveiled in his glory the sweat paints and stained hoody that adorned his frame.  His long greasy hair and disheveled look was the foreshadowing to what Davis would experience, and of course remember to tell me for my writings, as they walked over to one section in particular.

In efforts to aid his sister, the smelly sir started to squat down, and as a master of multitasking, began to emit a high pitch passing of pungent odor.  This was only the beginning, as high the and soft the sound was, as he was squatting, the flatulence became lower, lower, and lower still (of course with a rise in audibility) until, like a skillful opera singer, until the loud trumpets at the end announced the finale of the piece.

Holding back on his mirth, Davis admirably checked this smelly customer out, while noticing that the two smells definitely did not cancel each other out, to his misfortune. The game on the low shelf you ask?  Burnout Paradise.

It was quite the Experience

So I went to the bathroom recently which seemed to be a busy time because when I got there someone was using the urinal,so I choose to go to the stall. Well while I’m in there the gentlemen who was almost done lets out just a wisp of a fart, maintaining equilibrium as my brother calls it. I internally chuckle a tad just because I never expect that in an office building, more at a ball game.

Well that gentleman departs and a new fellow steps up. All of a sudden this guy just lets out a loud, audible, and lengthy *ahem* fart, that is punctuated at the end by another crisp exclamation point in the gas form. So loud and long and ridiculous was this situation that I even had trouble maintaining the respective silence that is the bathroom. In trying to choke my laugh I think he could hear a little of my giggles. I thought it was unbelievable, it was like watching back to back home runs.

But holy crap that has never happened while I’ve been in there and I get these two gems.