Cats have been losing out bigtime to little dogs as the ultimate shopper's accessory. Obviously cats just aren't fashionable enough to be seen browsing designer racks with and I blame two things for this:

1. This carefully constructed argument on why puppies are better than alcoholic kitties

2. Those crazy mixed up felines at Cat Town whose wardrobe has been provided by Catprin.

No wonder there are so many owners out there with cats who hate them.

But sometimes being unstylish is really a blessing in disguise. Cats don't have to suffer the ignominy of being paraded around by the likes of Jessica Simpson, Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera. Can you see the dead looks in those little dogs' eyes - a part of them has lost the will to live. In this picture, you can see one of them trying their best to escape from the clutches of Nicole Richie.

A media storm was caused recently when Paris Hilton misplaced Tinkerbelle who she said was like a daughter to her. That would make a Great Dane her father, which is no surprise because I've heard that the making of Tinkerbelle is an Easter Egg on the "One Night in Paris" DVD.

Animal activists need to get cracking and bust out all of these little dogs who have been condemned to a life of inane conversation and embarrassing press appearances.

Spirit Fingers

Posted by: SnoozeBob at 11:31 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Ah, finally, an unguarded place where a fellow can stretch out and relax.

Kang A Roo

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Wow, did you ever get someone tryin' to sell ya somethin' whose presence gave ya one of the most enjoyable days you could imagine? I jes' had that happen. I would love to tell ya'll all about it, but why would I be wastin' such a good story on Jim's blog. 'Sides, there ia a graphic I wanted to display as well, and it seems that spongesnoozebob's privileges do not include uploading pics to Jim's server*. You'll have to go to this place.

*Ain't that strange, 'cause it is also my server, or, truth be known, Pixy's server.

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I am blowing steam out of every ear I have, being nine of them, as I lost No. 10 in that scrap with Mike Tyson before my tentacles were fully developed and I had appropriated ray gun technology from Emperor Ming. Why am I upset, if such word is sufficient to describe the ire I feel from having a long diatribe about having had some man named Phil F. Jackson comment upon my blog: Beyond the Black Hole, "Great blog!", disappear without publication after I had worked so diligently to compose such? In this post's previous incarnation, I had painstakenly mentioned that I thought such was a highly suspicious activity and likely done with the intent to cause such Phil F. Jackson's name fall to the bottom of my zap list. If so, said individual is definitely in error, as are any who believe that I will show them favoritism if they compliment me or otherwise show me favor. Except for Gir, of course. Gir is quickly becoming my loyal assistant. Please insure that you do not allow this secret to slip, like was done with regard to the biological agent, cheese and its lethal effect on my health, but also, unbeknownst to many, I do not keep a zap list. My solitary rule in deciding who to zap and who not to zap on any occasion is solely dependent upon who is visible in the cross hairs as I engage the power on whatever ray gun I am firing. Now, if this post disappears without being published as that last one did, I may revise my rule and just rampantly zap everyone in attendance. No ducking, and no cheese allowed.

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I love this blog so much! I've always wanted to be a guest poster but never had the chance before. I knew about the last SnoozeBob opportunity but didn't even think of making my own post. Hindsight, you know?

Well, I don't have anything of my own that's worthy to post but I do have a short list of excellent posts by other noted bloggers for you to read.

Pray for me. Lovely Wife has PMS.

Simon says blog! That's one of the best newbie blogging guidelines you'll run across.

Simon also says that he's sick of the "Simon says" thing.

Rachel Ann discovers advertising deceptions.

Ryan is fed up and he's not going to take it any more! He's issued a call to arms. Sort of.

Bunsen is back? Be still my beating heart - you know he likes to tease.

See ya later!
Jim

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Little-known fact: when I (SnoozeTiffany) was a kid, I thought glasses were cool and prayed every night that I could wear them one day.

Ta da! Fifteen years later, I sit here with two left contact lenses in my eyes because I ripped my right one...twice. And my two eyes are different precriptions. Nice!

I'm not blind to the extent that I qualify for a handicap placard to hang from my rear-view mirror, but my vision is blurry enough that I can't read a digital clock with 1 1/2" red numbers from two or three feet away. I have to squint to read the clock on my cell phone when I take my lenses out.

My glasses are so damned thick that I pay the extra bucks to have them made from extra-light material, and still have that whole bug-face thing going on when I wear them: you know, the part of my face behind my glasses appears much much smaller than the rest of my face because of all that lens goodness. Cartoon, anyone?

The one good thing I can say about having shitty vision is that I can make excuses to beg off things:

"Oh, honey, I can't see to drive at night--can you take me?" (Useful when out of gas and too ashamed to admit it.)

"Fuck! I missed my exit! Why didn't you tell me when to turn--you know I can't see the signs!" (Useful for when you don't know where the hell you're going but like to pretend otherwise.)

"Damnit! I tore a lens, I can't go to work!!!! *snicker*" (Useful when feeling "SnoozeBob"ish.)

And my favorite: I can use the "Honey, I have a headache," excuse and have it work quite well when I'm wearing my glasses--oh, how they strain me. The pain! The fuzziness! *snicker*

Natural selection may eventualy do away with us squinters, but while I'm still here, can you go get me a soda from that store on the corner?...I think it's a store, I can't really tell. I can't see well enough to read the can. (And...I, sort of haven't been paid yet.)

Posted by: SnoozeBob at 01:51 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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A Pome

As we travel through our lives,
We all encounter certain woes;
For happiness is fleeting,
And contentment comes and goes,
And good fortune never lingers -
The tide ebbs after it flows.
But I never dreamed I'd find the dog
That ate my mother's toes.

The day was brisk, the sky was grey,
The trees were filled with crows;
I'd just filled up my fishpond
With the neighbour's garden hose.
I fumbled for a handkerchief
With which to blow my nose -
And then looked up, and saw the dog
That ate my mother's toes.

I looked at him; he looked at me;
He was chewing on a rose.
His eyes were hard, his mouth was set -
Determined, I suppose.
I'd have gone and fetched my shotgun -
But I don't got me one of those.
So I stood my ground and faced the fiend
That ate my mother's toes.

We glared into each other's eyes
The bitterest of foes:
The fellow who just lives his life,
The dog that feeds on does.
And then he got run over -
One reaps just what one sows -
And lay there dying, the vile beast
That ate my mother's toes.

My poetry may sometimes rhyme,
But can't compete with Poe's.
The meter changes over time;
The rhyming comes and goes.
My one last act I will remark,
For none here would oppose:
I kicked him in the ribs and he
Coughed up my mother's toes.

Posted by: SnoozeBob at 12:00 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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The first ever Carnival of the Recipes is up at She Who Will Be Obeyed. All I can say is "Yummy".

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Many congratulations to Simon and Mrs.M on the birth of their son. Isn't he a cutie?

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Dotfart.

I don't think there's anything else to say about it, really.

(Thanks for the link, Helen!)

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Jeff Quinton is looking to map out bloggers who've served in the US Armed Forces. That's any of the big five plus reserves, guards, etc. Montana militias need not apply. See his post for details.

For myself, I was US Navy Reserve from 1987 to 1995. About a quarter of it was in activated status (Desert Shield/Storm) and I was an Operating Room Technician, Hospital Corpsman attached to a mobile Fleet Hospital unit (like M*A*S*H but with hotter nurses).

POINTS: Name the group that made the lyric above a pop hit for 2 points. Name the lead singer of the group for a bonus point. No searching, y'all!

Posted by: Jim at 09:08 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
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Get those supplies before they run out!

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Set 'em up, knock 'em down. That's what Lovely Wife and Trey did with a couple of posts yesterday.

Start with Lovely Wife's post about a conversation with an intolerant neighbor and then read Trey's contribution. Lovely Wife's post is funny and serious, Trey's bumps it up to seriously funny.

And Trey? It was a "Mrs." Nipple Clamps. The folks at our table were stunnable but they're of the "live and let live and/or enjoy manlove" variety.

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Ilyka looks at the newsies and finds them wanting.

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Lovely Wife has her own blog. Oh, yeah.

Go take a look at Flaptrap.

Posted by: Jim at 11:20 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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It's even wrong on several distinctly different levels: The Wedding Album

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Ninjai, the little ninja.

Okay, so the name isn't all that clever. The flash anime movies are pretty neat though. The story is in a series of a dozen movies, the first 10 are completed.

(Hat tip to Dopple-G)

Posted by: Jim at 09:41 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 yeah its been around for quite some time. Pretty good though.

Posted by: pylorns at August 09, 2004 11:03 AM (FTYER)

2 Ninjai's the best come over to the forums and meet us all.

Posted by: Sib at September 04, 2004 11:38 PM (qXxbP)

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Talk about textbook. We've got a name that's really a cross-bred hybrid of two names, the requisite -lyn, the replacement of everything possible with a K or Y. Top it off with no obvious nickname to fall back on (Krys?) and no ethnicity to balance/account for the weirdness, and we may have engineered before you the ultimate bad baby name: simulateously strange, stupid, difficult and boring.

Bad baby names came up in conversation Saturday night at dinner with Trey and The Good Doctor so I was tickled to find Baby's Named a Bad Bad Thing at No.2 Pencil.

Posted by: Jim at 05:50 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
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Rachel Ann has uprooted the Willow Tree from Blog*Spottia and planted it in fertile Munuvian soil. Go say 'Hi' and help me welcome my new neighbor.

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That's right, y'all. In the Commissar's Blogville High School yearbook I was in the Car Club for three years. Hot cars, fast women. That's what it's all about.

Or is it the other way around?

Posted by: Jim at 02:28 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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