A rodent shot me, I bit my ear, and my breath smells like baby powder.

I have often been told that I have a…um…unique way of looking at life.  I blame my parents.  My mother has accidentally brushed her teeth with squeeze-tubed deodorant.  She has also failed to notice that instead of applying lip gloss to her lips, she had actually smeared them with a generous helping of creamy blue eyeshadow.  Yes, my mother has experienced a huge number of cosmetic catastrophes over the years.  And, she is also a distracted walker.  If there is a groundhog hole within a five mile radius, she will find it, and her five-foot-zero frame will fall into it up to her chin.  She’s pissed off a lot of rodents.  Don’t even get me started on the time she cross-country skied into a parked car.

"Always with the legs in my hole.  Next time I shoot."

“Always with the legs in my hole. Next time I shoot.”

My father is equally entertaining, particularly when he is attempting to be a Mr. Fix-it–something that does not come naturally to him.  Or to any other member of my family.  He has drilled through the front of his t-shirt–while still wearing it, come within seconds of knocking a large sledgehammer onto his skull, and regularly displays his latest wounds with pride.  He never knows where or when he got them.  It would appear that I got my lack of sense–shut up–gene from him.  He has driven into my car, the side of his garage doorway–and probably other things that he hasn’t told us about.  Did I tell you that we’re not the most observant bunch?  And that we seem to lack spatial reasoning.

I have no siblings to pick apart, but I’m sure they would have been equally strange.  Our pets were always neurotic.  Especially the French poodle.  He wasn’t actually French.  In fact, he came with a Mexican name.  I think I acquired my neurotic tendencies from him.  After all, what self-respecting dog demands that his ears get tied in a knot on top of his head every time he eats?  Neurotic.  Good thing I don’t have long floppy ears.  My husband would never take me out for supper–with all the ear-tying and stuff.

Is it me or does this water taste thick and creamy?

Is it me or does this water taste thick and creamy?

1)  In the year 2013, our deodorant is unlikely to come in a squeeze tube–perhaps due to a large number of tooth-brushing accidents in the late ’60s.  I don’t imagine that ingesting antiperspirant  is good for one’s health.  Namely because our guts don’t sweat.  I wonder if swallowing a large amount of deodorant would dry up your innards.  Maybe science should examine this as a possible way to do away with excess water weight.

My point is–and I do have one–that some products lend themselves to a certain type of packaging.  Deodorant belongs in those hard plastic containers that look like stubby people with no arms.

Milk belongs in cartons or jugs.  I would never think of drinking it from a fountain or a garden hose.  Water, however, should never come from a carton.  It seems unnatural–no matter what the folks at Boxed Water is Better tell me.  I need to see my water before I drink it.  Only yellow, lumpy water would hide itself in a carton.  And this girl doesn’t drink water with solids in it.  Ack.

Can you get me an extra large Q-tip please?

Can you get me an extra large Q-tip please?

2)  My dog had fairly ordinary ears, but he had one of those side-by-side water/food dish combos and he hated getting his ears wet.  This is understandable.  It must be annoying to have to drink ear water.

Now, the dog with the world’s longest ears has real problems.  This is Harbor, the Coonhound, from Boulder, Colorado.  He is a tad bit asymmetrical–sort of like a woman’s natural boobs–as he has one ear that measures 13.5 inches long, while the other is a demure 12.25 inches.  Ladies, very few of us have two breasts that are the exact same size.  And yes, I have just given men a new reason to grope their nearest and dearest.  But like Harbor the Dog’s ear, our disproportional mammaries give us character.  Even if we do list to one side.

I'm a little accident prone.  This makes me sad.

I’m a little accident prone. This makes me sad.

3) Due to my lack of spatial reasoning, my poorly honed observational skills, and my innate klutziness, I decided to conduct some research to find out what car I should never ever own.  It turns out that the internet is ripe with lists of the most accident-prone vehicles.  Here are few that I found.  The Insurance Institute for Highway Safety states that the top 3 wounded vehicles in 2012 were:

3) Chevrolet Aveo

2) Suzuki 4X4

1) Toyota Yaris

If you live in the UK, the Telegraph provides this top 3:

3) Lexus RX

2) Volvo XC90

1) Honda FR-V

Thankfully, my car is none of these.  I can, therefore, keep it.  And my ears can blow in the breeze.

Photo credits: renegade groundhog (http://www.personal.psu.edu/jac5682/fun.htm), boxed milk (http://www.eatdrinkdo.com/index.php/2010/11/bottled-water-fights-back/), Harbor the Dog (http://www.guinnessworldrecords.com/news/video-meet-harbor-the-new-dog-with-the-longest-ears-in-the-world/), Sad Car (http://toomuchfree-time.blogspot.ca/2011/02/sad-car-is-sad.html).

Evil Fungi, Lucky Leaves, Dumb Dogs, and Strange Envelopes

I discovered I scream the same way whether I’m about to be devoured by a great white shark or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot.” – Axel Rose

I am always amazed at how quickly mushrooms grow.  We have had weeks of dry weather and after only two days of rain, a plethora of strange looking fungi have sprouted up amidst my Evening Primrose and Columbine.  I’m sorry, but toadstools are sort of creepy.  I’m not sure why.  It could be some latent memory associated with Alice in Wonderland.  Or maybe it is due to a traumatic experience after a grade-three school trip that I had involving toadstools, my peanut butter sandwich, and a Destroyer Angel look-alike.  All I know is that I can’t wait for the hot weather to return and shrivel those freaky fungi up, which raises another question.  Where do they go?  Mushrooms disappear as quickly as they appear.  I told you–they are FREAKY.

1)  It’s funny what we humans consider to be  lucky…a horseshoe, blue herons, the number 7, getting the big end of a wish bone,  finding a penny, and throwing said penny in water.  When you think about it, we are a very strange species, indeed.

Another supposedly “lucky” charm is the four-leaf clover.  Yes, when we spot one of these genetic mutant weeds, we let out a squeal of delight, run to show it to our friends (who will also squeal in admiration of your find), and Google ways to preserve our treasure in a feeble attempt to prolong the length of our good fortunes.  Never mind that you have just ended the life of the poor clover.  Having an extra leaf didn’t prove “lucky” for it, did it?

Anyway, the sermon in church today was about the Trinity, which led to the mentioning of the regular three-leaf variety of clover, which made me want to look up some four-leaf clover facts…my mind works in mysterious ways.  And, no, my mind does not often wander in church.  I am usually a very attentive parishioner.

The four-leaf clover is really a light-weight when it comes to limb-growth.  In fact, Shigeo Obara of Japan holds the Guinness World Record for having the clover with the most leaves.  This sucker is a 56-leaf clover!  He should be the luckiest man on earth.

Plus, finding one or two four-leaf clovers is really no big deal (no matter how loudly you squeal or how many friends you get to squeal with you).  According to the Guinness World Record’s site, Alaska native, Edward Martin Sr., has the largest collection of four-leaf clovers with 111,060 of the little green finds.  I wonder where he keeps them.  He must spend a lot of time crawling around on the ground.  Seriously, the acquisition and storing of over a hundred thousand weeds is a full-time job.  I am very worried about this man.  Doesn’t he run an unusually high risk of succumbing to lime disease?

2)  Everyone thinks their own dog is smart…well, almost everyone.  My neighbour who discovered her Boxer choking on her bra doesn’t exactly brag about her pooch’s I.Q.  But most of us think our Rover or Fido is special.

If you own a Border Collie, your dog probably is special.  It is, after all, the dog with the highest I.Q.

Here are the TOP 10 Smartest Canines:

1.  Border Collie

2.  Poodle

3. German Shepherd

4.  Golden Retriever

5. Doberman Pinscher

6. Shetland Sheepdog

7.  Labrador Retriever

8.  Papillon

9.  Rottweiler

10.  Australian Cattle Dog

Sorry to say, but if you are the proud owner of an Afghan Hound, I hope your dog has loads of personality.  Apparently, he/she is not the brightest biscuit in the box as this breed came in dead last.

3)  I’ve got to admit that licking envelopes seems to get more and more disgusting with every passing year.  What the heck are they putting in the envelope glue, anyway?  I seriously fear ending up like George Costanza’s fiancee, Susan–for those who don’t watch Seinfeld (what is wrong with you?  This is the best show ever), Susan died from licking their wedding invitation envelopes.  As George later explains, they were a really good deal (cheap) and they were expecting a lot of guests.

Well, no need to dread this tongue-straining chore any longer.  In fact, it may become something you look forward to.  J&D’s, the purveyors of everything “bacon,” have introduced bacon-flavoured envelopes.  They even look like bacon–long globs of fat and all.  Only $6.99 for a pack of 25.  http://weirdnews.about.com/gi/o.htm?zi=1/XJ&zTi=1&sdn=weirdnews&cdn=newsissues&tm=36&f=20&tt=33&bt=0&bts=0&zu=http%3A//www.jdfoods.net/

Craving for a late-nite snack?  No worries.  Just get some mail ready and your nocturnal yens will be satisfied.  I wonder if they are cholesterol free.