Sebbylite

I’ve been sleeping like shit lately, which sucks. I don’t know what it is either; I haven’t been drinking, I’ve been exercising regularly, I’ve been eating alright, etc, etc, etc. There isn’t anything that I can think of that would be a warning sign for a restless night.

And even though I wake up every morning achey and tired, there is an upside: I’ve been dreaming a lot.

I also don’t know why I normally don’t dream (or to be more correct, why I normally don’t remember my dreams. As far as I’m concerned, everyone dreams all the time, we just don’t remember them), but whenever I do I wake up thinking some crazy things.

Last night, I had some good ones.

Although now I’m pulling what my brother and I refer to as “a Patty”. You see, that is my mom’s name, and whenver she starts to tell a story you can pretty much guarantee that she will either forget the ending, or at least one key point to the story that makes it relevant in any way, shape, or form. What I’m saying is that I remember having some awesomely weird dreams last night that made me wake up and go “WTF?!?”, I just don’t remember what they were.

I kick ass.

Yep, you know the drill by now. Here’s this weeks installment:

I know the invitation said “Black-tie optional”, but this is ridiculous!

Evidently, Canada is a lot more free with their sexuality than we give them credit for.

This happened last weekend, and I’m still not sure exactly what to make of it. But I’ll tell you, and then you can decide.

Last Sunday, I was jarred out of sleep by someone knocking on my door at 6 am in the morning. Now I’m the type of person that believes that if someone wakes you up, then they can go to Hell. So I stayed in bed, and tried to calm down the dog, who was barking (as is his job). The problem was that they kept knocking on the door, and then they started pounding on the door. Finally, I got up and went over to look out the peephole in my door. There were two people outside my door, and I got there in time to hear “Well, just put’em in the laundry room.” The laundry room is next to my door, and is unlocked.

After this, they left, and I went back to sleep. When I woke up, I took my dog out for his morning walk. Being a little curious, I looked into the laundry room. Lo and behold, there was a dog staring up at me. WTF?

I took him out of the laundry room, and it was obvious that he was very scared. When I finally got him calmed down enough and trusting me, he let me look at his tags. It turns out that Sebastian (that’s the dog), had a phone number and a Pet ID tag. I called the number, and it was a cell phone that was turned off, so I left a message saying that I had that person’s dog, and when could they come get it? Then I called the Pet ID tag number, and they confirmed that I was close to where the person had registered the dog, but they couldn’t reach them either.

So I’m stuck with a strange dog on a Sunday morning, and I’m not too happy about leaving him alone in my apartment with my dog since I know nothing about him at all.

About an hour later, as I’m sitting at my computer doing some work (and hoping that the phone would ring), Sebastian starts twitching in the kitchen. When I get up to see what’s going on, it’s obvious that he is having some sort of seizure. He was on the ground twitching and jerking, shaking uncontrollably, frothing at the mouth, and pissing all over himself and my kitchen.

I don’t know if you have ever encountered a person or a dog having a seizure, but it isn’t a comfortable thing to watch. I had no idea what to do for the dog, and I felt horrible because there wasn’t anything that I could do. Finally, Sebastian stopped seizing, and came back to normal. By normal, I mean that he was now covered in urine and froth, and hanging out on my kitchen floor.

I took him outside and hosed him down (and also let my dog outside, since he was scared shitless of this whole event too). Then I went back inside to clean out my kitchen. You have to realize that I have a yard that is almost fully enclosed, and I have no problems with letting my dog out unsupervised. Evidently this wasn’t the case with Sebastian, because the next time I looked outside, he was gone. I walked around the block a couple of times, to no avail. As far as I knew, he may have been in the bushes next to my house, dead or dying, or he could have walked right up to his own house and walked in the dog door.

Now of course I run into a little dilemma. On one hand, the dog was obviously sick (or at least not healthy enough to be out on his own). On the other, he did piss all over my kitchen and scare the crap out of my dog. Do I search around the neighborhood more for a dog that I don’t really want to find? Or do I just let it go, and get on about my day? I did both. I walked around the block a few more times throughout the day when I was home, but never ran into him again.

I think that the worst part about this whole ordeal is that the woman never called me about her dog. WTF? What kind of dog owner doesn’t want to know where her dog is when it is missing? Or at the very least, she should have called to bitch me out for finding her dog and then letting him get away again. But nothing.

I think that there is a special place in Hell for those that neglect their pets, and she’ll be there for sure.

I found a link online the other day that told me that I’m a liar. How do I know this? Well, read the following:

How To Tell If Someone Is Lying:

There are nine basic signs that liars exhibit. Not all of these signs may be witnessed, and not all mean that they are lying. They are just guidelines as to the body language that many liars display.

1) A change in the tone and pitch of the person’s voice.
2) An increased or decreased rate of speech.
3) Stumbling over sentences, stopping to think during a sentence, increased use of ‘um’ and ‘uh’.
4) A change in the amount of eye contact. Normal people make eye contact between one-fourth and one-half of the time that they are talking to you. Liars tend to make less eye contact.
5) Turning their shoulders away.
6) Looking very far to the left, right, up or down more than twice.
7) Touching their face or scratching their head.
8) Involuntary moving, jiggling, scratching, or other fidgeting of the legs or feet.
9) Crossing of the arms and/or legs.

According to that post, every time I talk to someone, I lie to them. Because I probably hit about 75% of those symptoms in each conversation that I have.

It’s that time of the week again folks. Make sure and follow the rules (ie, make the captions as dirty as you can think of), and let’s get this party started.

Here’s this weeks installment:

One of the jurors at the Saddam Hussein trial, later kicked off the jury for “not being impartial enough”.

Evidently people like it when I tell stories/post pictures of my retard dog. I’m not so sure how I feel about this, since it is my retard dog, and not your retard dog, and I should be able to do what I will with my retard dog.

But, since I realized that I was the number one hit on Google for retard dog, I figured that I should do something to stay there. Hence this post, my retard dog.

I do have plenty of stories about him though, so I guess I may as well tell one of those to kick things off:

My Retard Dog

My dog once faked an injury so that he wouldn’t have to run home in the rain.

No, I’m not kidding. I’ll tell you what happened, and then you decide.

We were out walking on our daily constitutional (where I walk him until he craps, then I pick it up and either fling it somewhere no one will find it, or throw it away in someone else’s trash can), when it started to rain a little. Now I live in Seattle, so this isn’t something that is any sort of anomoly. But it happened that this time, I hadn’t brought any sort of coat, and wasn’t in the mood to get wet. So I started jogging with the dog (we were only about three blocks from home). Evidently, he didn’t like this, as he started to drag ass even more than usual (he’s an 85 pound dog. Let’s just say that he isn’t built for speed or stamina, but that he plays an amazing game of tug). After a half block of dragging him along, he just stopped and sat down.

At this point in time Esky (that’s my retard dog, by the by) had been in my life for about 4 years, and he had never done anything like this. So I was a little concerned about him, and thought that maybe something was wrong. I walked back to him and checked his paws to see if maybe he had stepped on something sharp. Nothing.

After this little rest break, I tried to get him up and moving again, as it had started to rain a little harder by now. Again, he wouldn’t move. By now I was more than a little worried about him, and the possibility that maybe something was really wrong. So I tied him to a railing near an apartment building, ran home and got my car, and then drove back and picked him up.

Suffice to say that I drove back just in time to see him jumping at the end of his leash as he was barking and snapping at another passing dog. When I untied him and opened the back door, he jumped into the car, pleased as punch.

The only thing that I can think of is that the little fucker faked an injury so that he didn’t have to run anymore.

That’s just a little taste of the idiocy of the retard that is my dog. I’ll tell more later, as soon as my Google ratings for “”Retard Dog” start dropping again.

I’m not really sure what just happened.

I opened up my email this morning to find an email saying that I had a comment that I needed to moderate for this site, specifically for the Beaver post. I read through the email, and I wasn’t real sure what was going on, but I blamed the email interface for the miscommunication (you know, because computers don’t know how to type…).

Of course, when I logged in to my wordpress management system, I found the same thing. Basically, I think that I need to let y’all decide for me: was I spammed?

Here is what I got:

TRANSLATION FROM FRANCE

YOUR ARE CUTTIND BRANCHES WHERE YOU ARE SITTING

YOU ARE BUILDING NO HUMAN TOWERS WHICH ARE ATTRACTING AIRCRAFTS

So, what’s the story? Has anyone else gotten anything like this from their blogs? Is this the next Nigerian “help me help you” type of letter? Or do I actually have a reader in France who is trying to tell me some message that could save the American way of life, if only it was translated better?

Thanks to JV World

Yep, it’s that time of the week again, time for another installment (installation?) of the Super Sunday Caption Contest. I’ll just get this one underway with the photo below. Let’s keep it clean, and come out swinging (who am I kidding? Let’s make it as dirty as we can think of).

I think I’ll leave this one alone for now, and see what everyone else comes up with. Although I can think of a few choice Pepe Le Pew remarks that would fit the occasion…

I have a problem at work.

Well, that isn’t really true, I have multiple problems at work, but I am only going to talk about one of those problems right now.

The main problem that I have is that I am an hourly employee. But I only have between 4 and 6 hours of work that I actually want to do at work each day. The other 2-4 hours would be taken up by meaningless “busy work” that I absolutely hate to do, and that I think is stealing little bits of my soul away from me. To counter this, I have undertaken a study in the effective use of inefficiency to make my 4 hours of work turn into 8.

You may be thinking to yourself: “What the eff?” And I agree, especially since it is completely against my nature to try and make repetetive tasks inefficient. I’m more the type of guy that wants to get things done, and done quickly (I would be a horrible government employee). If I could find it, I would love to have a job that pays me to do a certain amount of work each day/week/month, regardless of how much time I take to complete that work. I guess that is what it means to be salaried, but I like my version better.

Here’s an example of what I will do at work to make the more pleasant tasks take longer. When I start pulling files-instead of lining up the files I have to pull in alpha-numeric order (ie, first pull the file from aisle 10 row 3a, then 3b, then row 4, then aisle 7 row 6, then aisle 42 row 4, then row 13, etc), I will create a new system of pulling files. Like strictly alphabetical, which means that aisle 42 row 4 comes before row 13 (f before t), then walk right by aisle 10 to aisle 7 row 6, and then go back to aisly 10, row 4 then row 3, etc. Or some other ridiculous methodological order, just so that I can take an extra 10-20 minutes per order pulled.

Some of you many now be thinking that this is just a quick way to get fired, or at the very least yelled at for such slow and crappy work. Untrue. I constantly get applauded for the speed with which I do my work. Even those days where I will start to pull an order, go drop a deuce, take a “smoke break” (I don’t smoke, so this involves me going outside and wandering around the parking lot for a while), eat a midday snack, and then finish the order. I still get lauded for the work ethic in which I go about my day.

Suffice to say that I get pretty bored at work. Unfortunately I don’t have access to a computer for more than an occasional email check, because I could get a lot of blogging done in that time.

Meme time, huh!

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18 and find line 4.
“…are generally marked on partnered sites as ‘featured listings,’…” Search Engine Visibility, by Shari Thurow.

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can, what do you find?
Entertainment center (TV, DVD player, VCR, stereo receiver, Ipod, homemede speakers).

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Sadly enough, it was the little bit of Panic Room I watched last night before going to sleep.

4. Without looking, guess what time it is.
3:47pm.

5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
3:47pm (damn, I’m even better than I thought)

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
KEXP on the radio.

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
Earlier today to play some ultimate frisbee.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
Various DIY projects that I would love to have the time and skills to complete.

9. What are you wearing?
Pajama pants and a thick sweater.

10. Did you dream last night?
Yep (that’s what happens when you fall asleep watching The Aristocrats). I was a scuba diving bellhop at a restaurant that was very similar to Venice (no aisles between tables, only streams). I would swim from table to table, bringing drinks and checking SCUBA equipment for patrons. Than I sat down at a table, and I was at a team dinner with Woodchuck…CHOMP!, and I was sitting next to Megan Randall, except it looked nothing like her (you know how you know things in dreams, even though there is no evidence to support that knowledge). Then I woke up.

11. When did you last laugh?
Can’t remember. It has been a while.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
A big ass clock (about three feet across), and this:

13. Seen anything weird lately?
You mean besides the cowboy hat wearing nekid mannequin on my wall? No, not really.

14. What do you think of this quiz?
Meh.

15. What is the last film you saw?
The Aristocrats. Two thumbs way up (I’m not going to tell you up where, because you’ll just have to watch the movie and find out for yourself. That damn mime is hilarious.)

16. If you turned a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
First thing would probably be a bitchin’ camaro. Then a house, and then toys to put in the house.

17. Tell me something about you that I don’t know.
I’ve got a tattoo.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt and politics, what would you do?
Make doorways taller the world over.

19. Do you like to Dance?
I don’t like to Dance, but I will dance every now and again, when the mood strikes me (mood=Jaeger shots).

20. George Bush.
Crack fiend.

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Dillon.

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what would you call him?
Creo.

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
If I could bring my dog with me, then definitely.

24. What would you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
I’m sorry, but this is all just a big joke. Sorry to mess around with you so much, but welcome to the party up here!

25. 4 people who must also do this theme in their journal.
Tall, Pooh, and Frankie. I’m going to save my fourth choice for a possible trade after the draft.