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Look Who Is So Full Of Ideas Today!

September 19, 2006

So, yes, it is only September some...teenth, and there are a lot of days before it gets to be Halloween, and I understand this, y'all, but that is not changing the fact that I feel like now is the time when we need to start gathering the supplies we will need for Bo's Halloween costume. For the first time in my life, I am planning ahead. Someone should probably call my mom, who will be thrilled about this state of affairs, and who has probably already finished her Christmas shopping, whereas I, on the other hand, have not yet managed to take my Christmas decorations, from last year, all the way up to the attic (this is true. All the red and green boxes are stacked in a guest room. This is...nice, I think, and quite festive for August houseguests).

(At this point, the decorations are just staying put, man. Considering the fact that the American Holiday Season has somehow bloated itself into late August, according to my local Target, which was already overrun with spider-dripping orange 'n black Halloween displays last month, I think it is perfectly acceptable to start Christmas decorating some time in May.)

(Astoundingly, I seem to have gotten off track.)

But, anyway. So, Bo's costume! The dogs always have Halloween costumes, because I have Issues, but most years I just dress them all in bandanas decorated with ghosts or tombstones or some other "morbid AND kid-friendly!" character. I have, however, in the past, attempted to dress them in actual costumes. Only, weiner dogs don't fit really well in actual dog costumes, primarily because lots of those costumes involve utilizing the front-chest area of the dog. Like, know those little costumes that have the fake legs or little bodies dangling down from a collar? So that it looks like a disembodied and irritated dog head has somehow fused onto a small, cartoonish human form that is probably either a cowboy or a ballerina? Know those? Those don't really work so well with dachshunds. When you put those costumes on dachshunds, whose front-chest area is approximately negative twelve centimeters long, the cowboy/ballerina legs just hang out in front of their faces, like the disembodied and irritated dachshund head has been fused to a body, only that body happens to be flat-on-its-back dead. Which I guess is keeping with the Halloween spirit, but you know. It looks ridiculous. And Lord knows, we can't have that! Not in THIS house!

So, we improvise. Once, we painted Tasha's toenails and attached some foam curlers to her collar, and told everyone that she was a bored housewife, and the rest of the dogs were small brown UPS men. One year, we put them all in an enormous pot with some plastic vegetables, and announced that they were Ingredients. (That is also the year when we learned that Ingredients are usually much...stiller, actually, than a bunch of pissed-off dachshunds in a pot with plastic vegetables. So that one didn't really work.)

But, we have learned one thing for our attempts, and that is that, in a remarkable and unexpected twist, of all the dogs, only Bo will keep a costume on his body for anything longer than six seconds. Seriously: Bo. Bo, who is evil. Bo, who hates all things. Bo, who communicates with his teeth.

This is the same Bo who likes costumes, and will actually growl at you if you try to take them off of his wriggling, hateful self. Somehow, Bo's personality is part Benito Mussolini, and part drag queen. To which we say: watch out, world. It's the unholy marriage of dictatorship and glitter.

So, bearing this in mind, I'm thinking that this year, he should have something extra special, you know? And I've been thinking about it, and here are some ideas that I've been pondering. And really, because I am so nice, I've listed all the necessary supplies and instructions, so you can make them at home, for your own little canine friends! Yay, sharing! I am like Martha Stewart with the Good Things. Check it out:

Costume Idea #1:


Bo-Na Lisa
(Oh shut up. You were thinking it, too.)

Materials Needed:

Mona Lisa (one)
Super Glue


Steal Mona Lisa from Louvre. Cut out face part with scissors. Take Valium; locate Bo. Insert Bo into remaining Mona Lisa; hold Bo in place with Super Glue. Take more Valium. Show off handiwork to nice French authorities on the doorstep. Offer them Halloween candy!

And, you're done!

But, maybe you are looking for something less...feminine mystique. In that case, we could go manly. And what's manlier than Costume Idea #2:

Jack Bo-Er
(People, I can't help it. It's like I'm being compelled here.)

Materials Needed:

Jack Bauer (headless)
Super Glue
Kim Bauer
Large Gun


Obtain headless Jack Bauer from boat on which he is making slow trip to China; set head aside for bronzing. Locate Bo. Attach Bo to lifeless corpse of Jack Bauer with super glue. Use large gun to kill Kim Bauer; collect accolades from everyone in the world. Offer them Halloween candy!


But, maybe...maybe this is not the way you want to go, either. Maybe you are thinking to yourself, "Self, these costume ideas are both economical and unique, but they're just not me. I'm a practical person, who does not want to have to fly to France, or find the boat on which Jack Bauer is currently deposited. I would like to find everything I need on my continent of residence, if at all possible. Can this even be done?"

Well, people, you are in luck, because I am here to tell you that yes it can. You can make an entire costume for your pet with items you already own! (Gasp! Wonder! Amazement!) Because, items you already own are all you need to fashion Costume #3:

(I promise that I am done now.)

Also known as: Yo Quiero Kill You So Much.


White hand towel
Refuse (Assorted)
Super Glue
Tequila (2 bottles)


Drink one bottle tequila; locate Bo. Wrap body of Bo in hand towel; staple into place. Fill towel with refuse; place second bottle of tequile in Bo's mouth. Use Super Glue for extra hold. Run for life. Bring candy.

So, there you go, y'all. Three perfectly reasonable ideas for Halloween costumes that I may inflict upon Bo this year. But, really, my mind's not made up yet; there are just so many options! Che Bo-Vara? Bo-ri Spelling? A cowboy?

I am sure y'all have plenty of excellent pet costume ideas, and so I think you should share them below, with or without instructions. As always, creativity is encouraged. But if you suggest Little Bo Peep, then Mister Bo might have something to say to you. And he'll probably say it with his teeth.

UPDATED, to add that:

People, we have all been schooled. Thank you to Liberal Banana, who has created the below image, and in doing so, has demonstrated exactly why "bored at work" is an awesome thing indeed.

Behold: Bo Derek.


Y'all enjoy. I'm just going to hang out here, and try to pry Bo's incisors out of my calf muscles. I guess he isn't...pleased.

Posted by doxie in The Dogs (Or, Poop) | permalink | Comments (81)

The Grind Sucks

September 10, 2006

Well, vacation is officially over, and I am officially home, having officially driven infinity miles in a car with El Dukay. Having just driven infinity miles in the car with Dukay, maybe I could take this opportunity to remind everyone that Dukay and I have a fundamental difference of opinion when it comes to Music, What Constitutes, as opposed to Horrible Nonsensical Sound, Definition Of. I could do this now. I could remind you of that fact. I could also remind you that spoons are sometimes involved in Dukay's version.

But, no. No! I won't stoop to such...lows. Or something. Mainly, because I complained about that already last year, and I should probably try to be at least remotely creative. As such, maybe it would be a good time to tell you about my vacation, if you are interested in that sort of thing (i.e., "Me me me me me!"), but I really, I don't have much to report on that front. The beach was awesome, and this was pretty much what I looked at every single day for the past two weeks:

Leigh's Knees. It's rhyme-y!

Only now, that is all over, and my view will be significantly different when I get to work tomorrow and behold the massive pile of undone things sitting on my desk, vying desperately for attention against the persistent, blinking light of the voicemail inbox, which is all, "Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey? Hey? Hey! Hey!" until you finally listen to the damn messages, and I am just totally not excited about any of it. Boo, work. Yay, knees on a beach.

The vacation was awesome, though, and obviously, I am very glad to have been able to take the time off, and I am very glad that I got to hang out with my family, and that I got to vacate with El Dukay, who managed to show up even though he kind of missed the highway the first time and practically ended up in a whole nother state by the time he was tracked down, but I am not supposed to mention that here, because the whole experience left him a little bit testy, people. So testy, in fact, that it was necessary to employ super-intensive calming-down measures, which meant that my mother and I had to visit not one, but two different liquor stores, to procure all of the ingredients necessary for super-intensive calming. Fortunately, we were successful, because my mother and I can sniff out liquor from a mile away, which makes us remarkably useful in very, very limited situations. Here, however, our skills were in full effect, and I am sure you were all proud.

I am sure you will also be proud to learn that, you guys, I am actually...slightly tan! Not really tan, and I am certainly not approaching the Orange Fanta wonder that is the jet-setting Hollywood crowd, but at least I no longer look like I've been chained to Bob Cratchit's basement desk for sixteen years. I am just not a very tanny person. My skin kind of stays the same general color, no matter what you do to it, so I am relatively pleased to be able to look at my legs and not see a pair of white tights, circa 198-"I-was-six" glowing back up at me. Now I have kind of graduated to "off-white." Or, "ivory tights that need washing." I am considering my vaguely dirty skin color to be a definite improvement.

But, here is another thing, as long as I have completely stepped outside of any semblance of "order:" As much as it sucks to come back and have to go back to work like a productive taxpaying voting adult, I am also very excited about seeing the many dogs, who we will pick up tomorrow. They have been staying at the vet boarding place for two weeks, which means that they (and here I mean "Bo") will be furious with us, and that I will soon be cleaning stealthily-laid poop off of everything I hold dear (and here again, I am referring to Bo) and that won't be very fun, and this reminds me to go buy some Lysol, actually, but we've really missed them. And, consequently, we, as a family, had ourselves a Summit on the State of Vacation during this trip, and have decided that from now on, we're only going places where dogs are actually allowed, because leaving them behind really blows. Not only in the sense that we miss them, which we do; nobody ELSE on this vacation has gleefully secreted himself away with my handbag, only to be discovered twenty minutes later, amid the ripped paper wrappers from the ten thousand tampons now littered crazily about the room, rolling on his back over his small white kill in unparalleled, cotton-induced ecstacy (see: Bo, two weeks ago). No! Not just because we miss those extra trips to the 24-hour CVS, but also because, know what? According to actual math, done on paper with the aid of the calculator function on my cell phone, it has actually cost more to lodge the DOGS for two weeks than it cost us to rent a whole entire condo for the same amount of time. The dog's room and board cost more than our own.

Is that...I mean, y'all, that's insane, right? Our condo had indoor plumbing and a microwave oven! I am relatively sure that the dogs, at the boarders, have enjoyed neither of these luxuries. I am equally sure that they would not really benefit from indoor plumbing, except to the extent that sometimes when it is raining Bo will sneak off to a bathroom and pee on the side of the toilet, because he is a crazy, ridiculous animal. And I will also add that this is something which I have only recently discovered, and which made me feel much, much better about life in general, because up to that point, I'd been convinced that there was a serious problem with Dukay, and I had been secretly entertaining some probing questions about his psychology/anatomy/aim. So, in that one, limited instance, the indoor peeing was actually quite a delightful discovery.

Not that this...has anything to do with my vacation. Nobody peed on the side of the toilet during the vacation. And that was...sad, I guess, and that is why we should bring the dogs next time! See there? It all comes together. The end!

So, if you could not tell from the above paragraphs, I am tired, and it is 12 a.m., and I have definitely spent too much time in the car today, so I will do us all a favor and wrap this up with the three best things about the vacation (aside from the eating and the drinking and the hanging with loved ones and lounging and the beach and the general sense of not-going-to-work that abounded during that time. Besides those things.) Those three things are:

1. Voicemail message from my sister's boss, received as she got off of her flight to the beach; contents of such were, "Hey, Ziz...um, bad news. See, we, uh...we just got some reports that there are snakes? On your plane. So, you know, that...sucks, but have a totally good vacation, though."

I will be leaving this message for all people in the future. Even people I do not know.

2. License plate, depicting fisherman in the morning mist (please take a moment now to imagine the beauty), secretly purchased by Dukay, my mother, and myself, and then custom airbrushed with the name "HOSS", which was then quietly affixed to the front of my father's new car, and which he failed to notice for QUITE SOME TIME until we were all just crushed under the weight of our own collective brilliance and could not stop giggling about the plate of great embarassment we had saddled upon him, and so we began engaging in all of these ridiculous antics in an attempt to direct his attention to the front of the car ("Dad! DAD! Is that an ant, or is that lint? Will you check?") so he'd finally see it already, only that didn't work. So ultimately, Mom hopped up on the damn hood, only Dad was all, "AHHH NEW CAR PAINT WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU PEOPLE SERIOUSLY WITH YOUR ANTS AND LINT AND HOPPING?", and so Dukay and I had to physically jump on the poor man, pin him to the ground, and say, "LOOK! YOUR CAR SAYS HOSS IN AIRBRUSH!" and he totally does not get it at all, but the rest of us think we are some kind of comic geniuses.

Hee. Listen, I will continue to find this funny until I die. Hoss!

3. The fact that I did NOT see any sharks whatsoever, but this is tempered by the fact that I did torture myself by watching Jaws on television, which always leads me to believe that there are Jaws sharks everywhere in the water, including in the swimming pool and in particularly deep showers, and I cannot be dissuaded from this belief. Everyone else thinks I am crazypants, but as proof of my complete, undeniable right-ness, I will leave you with this totally unmanipulated picture, shot of me and Ziz, some time last week.

Ziz thinks we're going to need a bigger boat.

See? Jaws sharks! Everywhere! Danger! Watch out for puddles.

So! In conclusion: I am back, and I will hopefully be slightly more coherent in the coming days. Which would be nice, because otherwise, the stacks of work, the blinking voicemails, and the stealth-pooping dogs (Bo) are going to drive me right back to crazy. And I'll probably be listening to spoons all the way.

Posted by doxie in General Whining | permalink | Comments (47)