one of your bigger wastes of time

September 27, 2007

We are enemies of those who castrate the word and turn it into an impotent and useless mongrel.

The Oberiu Manifesto

They eyes of the dog give to him sometimes a more intelligent expression than that of his master and there is no doubt that he uses them to very good advantage; but they are not our eyes.

C.Judson Herrick

A weasel is wild. Who knows what he thinks?

Annie Dillard

is updated on Thursdays.


Tired of your dog's not listening to you? Jumpin up on guests, barking and licking himself? Well now there's a support group with you in mind. We are the International Really Annoying Quadruped Wallowers And Ruers. Join us.
This weekend only: Saturday and Sunday, Mike Humbie will be appearing at the Convention Centre. Mike will be autographing photocopies of his Honorable Mention for the 1975 St. James Assiniboia School Division Science Fair. Don't miss out on this once in a lifetime event!
For sale: two matching matches used to light two matching candles which unfortunately burned. Also two small, but not identical lumps of wax. Box 24.

Tips for Autumnal Living:

Tip #2:  It is fun and relaxing to kick leaves down the street. Carry one or two in a small bag and you will be prepared should the mood arise.



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Doggy wisdom:

A friend of mine recently said to me that no cat had ever informed her of anything of importance and this made me think again of all the useful things I have been told by dogs.

Unlike Poprischin I have never resorted to reading a dog’s mail or rifling his or her personal papers. All the information that I have received from canine sources has been passed on willingly and I might add cheerfully. Dogs, in my experience, are always happy to pass on whatever information comes into their hands (I should say paws) and will do so with little prompting.

The less generous minded might be inclined to put this down to a dogs love of hearing his/her own voice, a trait which I have noticed and will not deny, but I prefer to think that this impulse is sparked by a dog’s great desire to be helpful.

I can't count the number of times a strange dog has interrupted his own business to give me directions when I was lost or helped me change a tire when I was stranded; and everyone has a story of a dog who helped them make up the change for a bus.

I myself, caught without my wallet in a restaurant and mightily embarrassed when presented with the bill was aided by a large bull mastiff who graciously charged my dinner to his Visa.

But it is not my intention to speak of the general helpfulness of dogs here, there is not room, but to consider a truly useful piece of information passed on to me by a canine acquaintance.

Many years ago, when I was a mere boy of 22, I had the good fortune to meet a beagle-terrier cross named Norman. Norman was a fine dog and a superlative example of all things doggy. He was lacking really only one thing, or perhaps I should say two, that is to say he had been subject to a rather common (amongst dogs) surgery at a very early age.

Since Norman was a loquacious and forthright example of quadruped I decided to question him about his feelings concerning his loss.

Being a young man and subject to the usual urges these things were much on my mind and I had a hard time imagining myself in a similar position to my new friend, although having just been ejected finally from a rather messy love affair I was giving the matter some thought. His words to me have been both a comfort and at times a thorn in my saddle.

"My boy" he said "sex is over-rated."

Hugh Briss


The Toilet

KC Adams photo

It is a sad fact of my existence but my toilet hates me. At first I thought it was just a bit distant but after some time had passed and I had spent more time on it, I realised that what I was feeling was hatred.

It's understandable really. Were our positions reversed I'm not sure but what I wouldn't feel the same way. But our positions are not reversed and they are not likely to be. I am on the top and my toilet is on the bottom and that is how things will stay. It is, I believe, the natural order of things.

My toilet simply will not accept this. It resents the fact that our relationship is not reciprocal. But what can I do about it? I am not God! I cannot change reality simply because my toilet cannot come to terms with its place in the universe!

It is becoming increasingly difficult for me to use my bathroom at home. I am uncomfortable there. Even washng my hands or brushing my teeth, I can feel it glowering at me and so I am inclined to hurry. I no longer bathe but have a quick shower just to avoid that awful disapproving silence.

My "number 2's" I do in various public restrooms and my "number 1's" I now do in an old mayonnaise jar. These I still pour into my toilet but I only do that once a day and I manage the whole thing as quickly as possible.

Holding the jar firmly in my right hand I step quickly into the room. I pour whilst depressing the handle with my left. I never look into the bowl. I back out fast and do not even straighten out of my crouch until I am safely out in the hall.

The whole business is really very stressful but I don't know what else to do. And to make matters worse next week my mother comes to visit!


Word of the Week:

"Nobody was ever more umphicacious about trimming their hedge than Don."