Talk about what you love. What you hate. What you want.
April 12, 2009
Another Dog Café.
I love the big clunky paws, crossed so gracefully.
Talk about what you love. What you hate. What you want.
Talk about what you love. What you hate. What you want.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
60 comments:
I love strawberries. I hate having lost the day yesterday to a neverending headache. I want my job to settle down - I've wanted that since September 2007.
I love Sweet Smell of Success. I love Fred & Ginger movies. I love raspberries. I hate my siblings. I want to return to that hyper-intense feeling I had when I was writing like a possessed demon.
Paws, unposed and taken all unawares of the paw theme, ten minutes ago when I got back from the store.
The only thing not to like is my Bermudas don't show.
I love dogs with that 'I'll bit off your face!' look that non-dog people tend to miss (maybe it's a trick of the camera but that dog looks about one hundredth of a second from exploding on your ass).
I hate it when people blame the dog (who has been perfectly clear throughout the interaction).
Paws, unposed......
Ha, ha, and a big nose.
.....but that dog looks about one hundredth of a second from exploding on your ass
Naaaaah. He's getting a back-end scratchy and thinking **ahhhhhh**
That's an ears being scratched look.
Uh-oh. Someone has a rather vein-y limp wrist.
And, it ain't the dog.
Love,
Maxine
I like dogs. Dogs are better than most people. All dogs, even the worst pitbull is nicer than Maxine.
That dog has kind of a crotchety old man look going on. Like if he could talk, he'd say "in MY day when a stranger came up this close, we bit their entire body off".
The only thing not to like is my Bermudas don't show.
Ehh, if that had been the case, you'd probably have gotten a mild rebuke and a "men in shorts" tag from our hostess... ;-)
I love Easter.
For me, Easter smacks Christmas silly. Easter is so hopeful and inspiring.
Happy Easter everyone, and Happy Passover. We would not have the former without the latter.
God bless us all.
Trey
Limp wrist:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/althouse/3434814233/sizes/o/
Maxine, I'll be sure to point out that limp wrist to my friend, the dog's owner. He's a Marine who fought in Operation Phantom Fury in 2004. His 14 year-old German Shepherd is one of the sweetest most loyal dogs I've had the pleasure of knowing. RH called it right on her demeanor.
I love dogs, and pictures of dogs, and tender-hearted dog owners. Yes, that includes all you people out there who think of your dog as your kid, and if not, surely a vital member of your family.
This dog has kind eyes and isn't going to attack with much of anything but doggy kisses... Well, that is what I would LIKE to hear from the person holding this dog back by it's collar.
I love Easter.
As it is evening, I think I will pull out The Messiah and luxuriate in the Hallelujah Chorus as we return to the routine of the gritty and glorious every day world.
Have a safe trip back to Madison, Professor.
Does the dog owner own the dog or vice versa?
I love chokeberries...with a dash of angostura bitters.
Date her, dump her, get her fired. Or quit. That's pretty much it. Ok, she might dump you, but one of you won't be working there afterwards.
That's a good dog.
I'm pretty sure anyone's wrist is limp if it's hanging below their waist. Seems more likely that Maxine is always a little tense.
As a six foot tall woman, I hate when people body snark on Michelle Obama as looking like a linebacker, etc. Screw all y'all.
the limp wrist
La mano muerta.
LOL.. Maxine cracks me up. The opposite of the limp wrist is "stopping short" by Constanza's father.
You are right - no linebacker has an ass as big as hers.
Again -- screw you. These things are assets, if you know what I mean.
"Does the dog owner own the dog or vice versa?"
Interesting question, ricpic, but not so sure it is relevant for the myriad of people and their pets who have this mutual love affair going on. For that crowd, the question might be who loves who more, dog or human. Now THAT'S the kind of fighting I could get behind!
zedzed -- wrong thread?
Molly - I always hate when people snark on women's looks. Even if the woman in question gets on my last nerve. It's like they think the woman picked her face and body out of a catalog and it's an indication of her judgment because she might have picked out a different one. Or that if she's tall, or not built like a pencil, that indicates some moral failing. Or that it somehow harshes their mellow to have to look at a woman who doesn't appeal to them sexually.
There are things that Michele Obama has said that I think very stern thoughts about. I think she looks just fine. I don't think her rear is disproportionate and if it was, I don't think there would be any reason for anyone to remark on it. Same with Hillary - I thought her alice-in-wonderland long hair with a headband was fine, I thought her execubob was fine, I think her hair looks fine now. Her hair was never anything I objected to. Politics, character issues - that's a different story. I'd like it if more attention was paid to things that matter.
Laura -- seriously. When's the last time someone pointed out Karl Rove's big ass? I actually think Hillary's lack of fashion worked to her advantage as far as getting taken more seriously, although I still remember the sight of that Alice in Wonderland dress. I just wish the media would find something more interesting to talk about than Michelle Obama's arms. Such is the life of the first lady, though. I have no idea why they get as much attention as they do. Makes me miss Howard Dean's wife, as someone else pointed out earlier today.
Hey, look over there - there's an ugly person, now never talk about anyone's looks, especially a lard ass bitch we love.
Well alrighty then...
That wonderful dog has the crossed paws that mean "I'm going to roll over now so you can continue your scratching on my belly."
Continue scratching belly, Michael? We haven't yet begun! No time like the present though.
Of course this does make me think about the cutest little polar bear we all saw grow up. Knut. Remember him? Most of us ooh'ed and aww'ed over that one.
Google Knut the polar bear today, and sadly you will find out that he mauled a woman at the Berlin Zoo.
No one knows exactly why she jumped into his space?
I love dogs. I love that they don't hate.
That's a good dawg.
I love that I finally, after over two months of dealing with inept doctors, had successful surgery Friday night. Laparoscopic marsupialization of a splenic cyst, if anyone's wondering.
I hate that the vicodin is not working, and it feels like I got punched in the gut by a truck, ten times. But, today is better than yesterday so tomorrow will be even better.
I want to go back to work tomorrow, but it's looking like it will be Wednesday.
Happy Easter!
Ouch ZPS.
In many surgeries the pain is worst 36-48 hours post op.
Hope the rest of your recovery is rapid.
I think that's an ankle, Maxine.
Working dogs are often not allowed to interact with passersby, but there was a cop in RDU airport this morning who was letting his yellow Lab make up to people. I talked to her and she licked my face. Someone asked what the dog's name was and the cop said, "Trouble." It was an ill-fitting name, that is, unless you were carrying contraband, which might have been the meaning. Someone asked "Is she a sniffer?" and the cop said "Yep. Explosives." The dog just then had her nose at the paper bag in my hand and I said, "Explosives and bagels."
ZPS, glad your surgery is now out of the way. Good luck with a speedy recovery.
I love that a German Shepard of my acquaintance with a painful arthritic condition is being treated with stem cells. I hate that people of my acquaintance are not.
For me, Easter smacks Christmas silly.
Did anyone else read that and conjure up the bizarre mental picture of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny going at it mano a mano--and the bunny winning?
The dog just then had her nose at the paper bag in my hand and I said, "Explosives and bagels."
We had a dog who loved, loved, bagels, and would croon to them if we brought a bag home. We could eat rare steak and he wouldn't care, however. Only bagels were special.
I would agree that she's getting ready to roll over, but she'd have to move her right rear leg, which is blocking her rolling.
I love hanging out with friends old and new, chatting and snacking, like I've been doing all weekend. My new love is pearl onions with balsalmic vinegar and brown sugar -- went perfectly with our friend's Easter ham. I hate that so many of my neighbors are out of work. I want some ginger ale, but I don't want to try to find a store that's open.
I am happy that my "plague year," is over and I am prepping for a move back to washington, DC.
I enjoy Our Grande Blogress is finding happiness and writes a damn fine Blog with a majority of interesting commentators.
I like reading Histories and seeing precedent in the Past.
I hate closed minded poeple.
I hate censorship or the stomping of differing ideas.
And I hate, hate, hate Peter Pan. /sarc
Today I loved the words to the song below. I am reminded of 12-20 year old girls who thing popular bands or a guy strumming a guitar speaks just to them. and I hate that, until another moody song pops up on my cassette tape player and transports me to the seventies where i thought i was all that, too. Let them be young. Some of them. The others can beat a drum thinking they've been brainwashed.
tonight I am going to love being just as actress-full as Ann Althouse on her blog. On my website, I can be my anonymous selfless digital being and be glad i don't get hits nor visitors nor emails.
Heres to McLean and long six foot tall men who like six foot tall women (in shoes) who don't vote cause the party lines are too long and tight and nothing changes except your age.
And, you have loved, in a total way, from flesh to soul.
You speak, without coy without pose.
Your eyes can see that the emperor has lost his clothes.
And what's more, you'll tell the whole world what he stole.
Let them have their fad and their fix, confined by fashion and peer.
I love you for your courage in this frightened atmosphere.
that was brief. now out of here and back to nothing and the darkness and dreaming non conformist dreams.
Hopefully at some point you will have one of these that is sponsored by Mickey Kaus and beer.
I think I just broke the rule written above.
Ace did a pretty good takedown of the media fawning over Michelle, with a certain degree of reticence as far as the attacks on Michelle's looks. Meanwhile, the press insists she is the height of femininity. So beautiful, Carla Bruni would be afraid to be seen next to her.
As for tall women, they are, of course, indispensible.
We have an old yellow lab and he likes to lay around with his paws crossed that way.
He lays in the driveway and observes traffic in this fashion. Always makes me feel good when I see him doing that.
Good dog!
Google Knut the polar bear today, and sadly you will find out that he mauled a woman at the Berlin Zoo.
The bear wasn't Knut.
"Molly - I always hate when people snark on women's looks."
I completely agree. It is sexist garbage. And the comparison is typically either to a surgically altered "ideal" or someone who has a fracking staff to make her look good. Oh, and then there are the people whose job requires them to spend over 3 hours a day working out.
None of those are valid comparisons.
As a man, I resent people trying to manipulate me based on the part of my brain that picks possible sexual partners based on how they look.
I am married, and happily married at that.
All that stuff sucks and I love ranting about it before work.
That is all.
Trey
I love the big clunky paws, crossed so gracefully.
Lower middle of the back scratch. Dogs and cats love it.
molly said...I just wish the media would find something more interesting to talk about than Michelle Obama's arms.
The arms are a creative diversion from the Travis the Chimp-like face of hers.
Talk about what you love. What you hate. What you want.
Billy Bob. Not enough Billy Bob. Billy Bob talking to Joaquin Phoenix.
Oh no you didn't! Travis the chimp! JDee - you are the man. But be prepared to be called a racist - the loving, tolerant left will not abide calling anyone other than Bush a chimp.
The good news is that Molly has agreed to screw us all. I find that very sporting of her.
Good morning! I hope you all had a happy Easter, and are enjoying a great Passover.
I love him, and he loves me. I love my friends. I love this city. I love my country of origin, and my adoptive country. I love winter and snow. I love cats and other people's dogs. I love the ocean...
ZPS, I hope you feel better soon. Maybe they need to up your Vic dosage. It's happened to me.
zedzded said...The good news is that Molly has agreed to screw us all. I find that very sporting of her.
I've seen her photos on Flickr. She's not doing any of us a favor.
I said sporting, not generous.
She is an English major who works in a coffee shop. After she gets her PhD, she will be qualified to work in a coffee shop. Nothing like setting your sights high, Molly, you ol' train puller.
I love old dogs. Mine cross their back paws while at rest. I think that's when they talk to their own personal God, about things like a fuller bowl, longer sunshine every day to sleep in, and no more medicines from Mom.
I love the town I grew up in, which was idyllic then but is no more.
I love the very dried up and mangled corsage my first (and only true) love gave me on our first date all those years ago. I love him, too.
I want my dogs to live at least as long as me because it's hard to imagine my life without them.
I want all the inhumane methods of companion animal euthanization stopped - right now.
I hate salmon and milk and self-absorbed people.
Ouch. This turned uglier than expected.
My dog crosses her paws like that. She's a golden, but I wanted a German Shepard, which Wife veto'ed when the Shepard at the pound failed the "cat test." (The cat lived).
Dogs are joy generators.
I love my three cats--angels with fur. They are unusually affectionate, and during my cancer treatment, they knew when I needed their company more in my chemical fog. They aren't those bitch type cats that everyone loathes.
I love relishing the sense of gratitude for my father, and his "good death" last summer. His children rose up and called him blessed. He was a remarkable man and people travelled from abroad to come to his funeral. Even that gathering was a miracle of love.
I really love my nieces and nephews...and I hate living so far away from them.
I love Appalachia.
I love sculling on these wild, remote lakes.
I hate being chronically tired from cancer treatment and the new aromatase inhibitors I've started. So tired...some days it's like please just shoot me now. Only 4 more years of these meds and maybe I'll wake up.
I love life!!!!! and being Cancer Superwoman, having kicked its ass three times now. I need a pink superhero outfit with cape.
I love people, even uncool, unsmart, unfashionable people who suffer. Especially them. I'd rather hang with the anawim than the literati.
I love the bold conversation of the blogosphere. Including y'all.
I love freedom.
After heart valve repair I had one cat stick with me like glue. He purred and kept me company. I was unable to lift him due to restrictions in heavy lifting, but he made sure to jump up next to me.
I have 4 other animals that also were great comfort, dogs and cats. But that one cat was and is a treasure.
I like the southern mountains, but live in the piedmont. Maybe someday I will return to the hills - my family has been there for over 300 years.
Kentuckyliz, I love posts like yours that make me proud to be an American.
You are in my prayers, go forth and kick cancer's ass.
Again.
Trey
Post a Comment