My dog, General Sherman, has been saving up his money to get a DNA test. He wants to see if he can up his value and desirability. If by some chance it turns out that he does indeed have some poodle mixed into his typically American mongrelization, it would be the doggy equivalent of having royal bloodlines. I mean, what dog doesn’t dream of being non-shedding, and hypo-allergenic?

With the chance that the test comes back positive, Sherman has been trying to come up with a name for his breed, ie “Labradoodle”, or “Golden-doodle“. He is fully aware that, being Southern and a bit hillbilly, it is likely that his options will be a bit different from the normal everyday doodle varieties. For instance, we know his Grampa Red was a Coonhound, and we cannot find a prefabricated name for a poodle-hound mix, so Sherman tried out “Coonoodle-Doodle” on me this morning. I must admit, it has a sexy ring to it.

There is also surely some Beagle blood. While “Poogle” is definitely out, Sherman thinks he could get away with telling people that his new breed is named after that most famous of Beagles, and be a “Snoopy-Doopy”.

The General holds hope that Cocker Spaniel is an option. I told him he would be a “Cockapoo,” which is decidedly bland, but he is determined that he will be the original, “Cocker-Doodle-Dude.” Sherman does have a flair for the dramatic. Or perhaps he will become a “Blue-Tick-a-Poo”, or even a “Pitbull-a-Poo-Poo”.

But whatever he might become, his hopes are high, so I hope the tests come back positive. General Sherman does not handle disappointment well. He was down for three weeks after his application form to Tulane’s Law School was rejected, even after I warned him that reading was a requirement. The poor pup was so hurt we missed the whole quail shooting season afterward.

I know that most of you won’t understand, but it is an extremely big deal for a hound to make it into the “Doodle Mafia.” If he gets in he will immediately become one of the dogs that the cashiers at the Home Depot flock around in admiration, rather than being the one left outside in the truck bed to howl his displeasure and shame.

As for me, I really don’t care about having a “Doodle-Dog,” but I know how important it is to him. He is a good dog, so I hope he makes it, I just hope he wants it for the right reasons, and not just because Dolly, that Malti-Poo down the street, won’t pay a mutt any mind.

“Whatever an artist draws a fictional couple swapping outfits, it’s always super cute. But, people really shouldn’t do that in real life.” Amanda says to her six foot boyfriend wearing her size small pink sweater.

“Geez, jealous much?” He posed like an underpaid model in a teen magazine. “You’re just mad that you don’t pull it off as well as I do.”

So I wrote this at three am when I couldn't sleep one day, apparently. I don't remember writing it:/

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The nursery rhyme “Mary Had a Little Lamb” is inaccurate and childish for many reasons.

For one, there are many questions that were raised in the text. In lines 5-6, the poem states “it followed her to school one day, which was against the rules” (Mary Had a Little Lamb, 5-6). This is inaccurate for many reasons. For one, where were Mary’s parents? Why did they let her lamb follow her to school? It’s not that hard to keep a lamb contained. Also, why did they let her bond with this little lamb, when chances were, they were raising it for dinner meat? And also, did the lamb have a name? Where were the lamb’s parents? Didn't they know better than to let their child wander after a hungry human through crowded streets? It could have gotten hit by a car, or picked up for food. The chances that the lamb would follow Mary and make it to school alive were slim to none. 

Also, the fact that the lamb stayed around when the teacher kicked it out was unrealistic. The text says, “and so the teacher turned it out, but still it lingered near/ and waited patiently about till Mary did appear” (Mary Had A Little Lamb, 9-12). For anyone who has spent any time around sheep, the tendency to wander will be recognized. Therefore, as a young lamb especially, this sheep will be likely to wander off and get hurt or lost because of its instincts. This is the reason why herding dogs are used: to round up wandering livestock, so unless there was a dog around, it is unlikely that the lamb would stay situated in one place, especially for the rest of the school day. 

However, the text claims that the children asked why the lamb loved Mary, to which the teacher replied that Mary loved the lamb. However, it does not work that way. The lamb would not be likely to stay in one place for a bond alone, especially for a young lamb, as this one presumably is. Unlike most birds, sheep do not have a tendency to immediately imprint on another animal or object, so it should not be assumed that the lamb and Mary have such a strong bond that the lamb would wait for her for hours. 

These types of uneducated assumptions are what cause the world to go up in flames, and this poor excuse for a nursery rhyme may cause children on farms to become overly attached to livestock, have unrealistic expectations for how young animals behave, and even cause the animals to be put in danger if they try to bring them to school or have the animals follow them.

Therefore, “Mary Had A Little Lamb” is unrealistic and unknowledgeable, and it should not be read to children anymore, as it will corrupt their minds and put unholy ideas in their head that will likely lead to the demise of many animals and the despair of many children. 

Nothing is funnier than a fart

Unless ofcourse someone sharts

Kids even love the deed

Farts fill the world with glee

How are Pepperidge Farm cookies still a thing?

They turn to dust easier than vampires in a tanning salon. I keep looking for tiny dessicant bags at the bottom of each package.

Were they invented by paranoid cookie hoarders so they could trace thieves via crumbs? Because that's all these are - crumbs in 140 calorie piles that end up half in my mouth and half all over my shirt. I think dead Lost Boys have less dust on them.

Seriously - milk can't even fix this mess.

There are chewy and crunchy cookie fans, yes - but who on earth picks these? Masochists? Vacuum cleaner salespeople?

What do they use to film their commercials so their models don't resemble Sesame Street monsters?

And why are they still so popular they take up an entire shelf at the store?

I've tried different flavors but the consistency remains the same - sawdust. Really? The height of modern artificial sweeteners + genetically modified corn starch produces this?

If I'm going to eat unhealthy foods then at least make it worth the time to chew - or make it actually chewable. I feel like I'm two seconds from choking on inhaled cookie substances. I should just get myself a mirror and a straw at this point.

Okay, perhaps that pushing the metaphor - but still.

Why do these exist? And who continues to buy them?

Why does he kept talking about his life and his problems?

I have mine too that's why I'm having fun right now. Don't suddenly butt in.

“Meow!”

I hate it when my cat only talks when I’m high, smoking. So rude.

My daughter wanted to paint my toenails! I said “sure” because bonding with my daughter as a single father can be difficult, and really don’t care.. I’d take a pedicure any day of the week and I wear boots all the time anyway. So she went to work and painted them a bright blue!

A week had passed and I went to the doctor because I was experiencing excruciating pain in my foot. He asked me to remove my shoes so he could examine the issue. I took my boots and socks off and with one look he said “it looks like a bunion, though it’s most common with woman who wear high heels, you don’t wear high heels do you?” I laughed and said “no why... well shit?” As I looked down to my semi fresh bright fucking blue toenails!

Needless to say he was wrong and I was diagnosed the next night with cellulitis an infection of the skin. That judgmental son of a bitch got his diagnosis wrong just because I love my daughter.

On our land you see, we live close to a swampy pond of sorts. And every day I can hear the sound of snorts and rib-bits echoing throughout the holler, well at least ever since Granny Rosemary tried to place a spell on Eddie Gerald Kruger, the man that broke her grand baby Annie’s heart. She completely snapped one day and had plain lost it when she saw Annie crying for the 112th day that year. She was so tired of hearing about her heart break that she was literally sick to death of it. It didn’t take her long to save up her wages from baking her award winning millionaire pies in order to pay the local traveling Gypsie, the lady witch only came once in a blue moon and she didn’t want to lose a grand opportunity to place the curse of all curses on Eddie Kruger. She was especially lucky to have found her off the beaten path, in a wicked shack by the ole mill road. She wasn’t one to partake in hocus pocus but this Eddie needed to be taught a good lesson. Grandma paid her with a whopping 50 cents, a weeks wages of selling her famous millionaire pies, all of this in order to pick up a spell or two so as to curse the muddy ground Eddy Kruger walked on.

I guess the spell didn’t work as Granny Rosemary-had planned. Eddy turned into an Opossum and all the frogs and pigs in the farm started breeding like mad bunnies and mated with one another. I was told by the groundskeeper that worked at the local pet cemetery that he had seen at least 100 little baby frigs all jumping from one tombstone to another. I could have sworn I heard one speaking to another the other day. Farmer Johnson and I both agreed while waiting on our meds at David’s Pharmacy, that they were indeed speaking in our tongue. And that was quite worrisome to say the least. I just wanted the annoying little things to take a flying leap out of our town. They were obnoxious little mutants with big ole pink ears, flat nose, funky frog lips and long green legs to match. They were the ugliest little creatures anyone had ever seen. Nobody even knew frogs could mate with pigs but all the frigs in Plattersville proved it could be done. Now there little country town in the middle of nowhere had become populated with a heavy dose of frigs. It wouldn’t be long before the news found out about their over abundance of frigs and they would be all over the papers as a major headline.

#streamOFconsciousness #comedy #opinion #jokes #life

I think it’s funny that I used to believe in the biblical God, and that he-- through Jesus, made it against the rules/law to sing at a dinner table; picture bibles I didn’t really read and a Dad who hadn’t explained why it was a rule-- it just was... like God.

I think it’s funny that I used to think that Aerosmith sung a song called, “Fork Display.” My family thought it was funny too, when they caught me singing it across a parking lot on our way to a buffet; I learned the meaning of, “I stand corrected.”

I think it’s funny that I still sometimes catch myself looking down at my stool and thinking, ”that was a good poop!”

I think it’s funny when I pull up my pants and some how miss my undies... and then there’s tbis debate about how to go about the pulling them back up.. Do I reach in there and pull them up, or do I pull my pants back down and start fresh?

I think it’s funny when I think about “pollen season” as “plant sperm season”...

I think it’s funny when I and a wild animal lock eyes in mutual frozen debate about the consequences of our moving. I don’t want them to run away from me, I want to observe them more...

I think it’s funny when I tell a wild animal, "It’s just me,” like we know each other, and then add, "carry on, carry on” like it was waiting for my permission to go about its business.

I think it’s funny when a mattress announces my movement to whoever/whatever might be listening. I think it’s even funnier that I sometimes think someone/something is listening to me sleep...

I think it’s funny I kept my Grandpa's "This is my happy place" throw pillow he used to keep bungie-chorded to the seat back of his scooter for more comfort and support.. Mostly I think it's funny because I was the one who helped him pick out and test out the pillow for purchase... and we both forgot to remove it from its test place to be scanned for purchase... so... technically it's a stolen pillow and I managed(unintentionally) to make a thief out of him before he passed. And yes, he rode that pillow in and out of that store for months before he took that passage out of the physical world.

I think a lot of things are funny... most of them I felt compelled not to include here. xD

another_proser