Thursday, May 28, 2009

And after he brought me Earl Grey with zested orange peel

There is this thing happening that's got me sort of weirded out, but also kind of in awe. I have friends (that's not the thing) having babies. Actual babies. As in, they are parents (aka 'rents). Of real. human. beings. Miniature ones, but people, nonetheless. I'm still getting over the fact that I am responsible for two furry creatures that require nothing more from me than the occasional scooping motion: scoop food into dish. pause. scoop poop out of other larger, sand-filled dish. repeat. And I'm not even home to do that 80% of the time, so I push it off onto my amazing boyfriend who lovingly takes on those responsibilities for mere pennies Xbox360 games.

That's terrible kitty-mothering at its best. However, I do still want to brag about my little guys, because one of them plays fetch. Yeah, that's right. Can your infant do that?! Notice I said "one of them." The other one doesn't do anything special. Seriously. Since I've already overstepped the bounds of pet obsession while simultaneously insulting babies, I'll go ahead and continue that trend by posting video of my cat playing fetch.



Update: Barley's fave toy is a hair binder (that's "hair tie" to all you non-Minnesotans). He hoards them somewhere when he gets them, but when he feels like playing fetch with one he will first drop it in his water dish and soak it before excitedly dropping it on or around one of us. Naturally, I assumed this was indicative of his lack of intelligence, but then I googled "cat drops toy in water" and holy lord! There are cats upon cats dousing their toys in water prior to playing with them. I can only assume they're pretending it's a blood-soaked fresh kill. Because wet elastic is what I would use, too. It takes a special kind of cat to reach that level of mediocrity.

Friday, May 08, 2009

#didimention

Oftentimes the little factoids that could potentially bond us to our online buddies don't come into play because, really, who starts a conversation with "I've got six toes" or "I'm metallophobic (afraid of metal)".

But who knows who might relate to that? Without further ado, I present the #didimention tag.

Here are the "rules" (which you may or may not follow, depending on your level of twetiquette)
1. Be truthful. No "#didimention I am the president of the United States" when that title belongs to one person and one person only: Michelle Obama.
2. Use it, don't abuse it. No one needs to hear 500 things about you daily. Just like any other hashtag, use #didimention to spark conversation -- not the apocolypse -- among your followers/followees.
3. Be funny. Be surprising. Be heartfelt and passionate. But be nice.

Now on with your lives! Get ye back to Twitterville and spread the word!

... btw, I actually did have an irrational fear of metal until I was about 18. #didimention I've been shocked twice by electric fencing?