Friday, March 25, 2011

Fortuitous Friday: Welcome to the Vomitorium

Thank you for calling the gankian hotline. Here are some things that rhyme with gank. Hank, tank, spank, Frank, da bank.......

Confused? Don’t worry, it’s yet another Simpsons quote. I think that the Simpsons could actually be studied as a tool in international communications. Wherever I was in the world I found you could always talk Simpsons. We should likely be beaming episodes of it into space. If it turns out that it’s not a universal language then at least they’ll have something funny to watch on their way over to conquer us. I’d rather have my new overseers in a good mood when the come to enslave us, wouldn’t you?

In any case, that beginning was merely my way of saying I don’t have a lot to talk bout today- and on Fortuitous Friday’s of all days! It’s akin to eating a big fat steak on Friday...mmmmmm sacrilicious. Fortuitous Friday’s actually coincides with Fishy Fridays but not for me, as I’m not Catholic. Well, okay, apparently some Priest-like person (or an actual priest, I didn’t get a good look at him) tried to drown me in some water at a church but I haven’t been back since.

Hey, what can I say, you try to kill me once, and I’m not going back- good thing too considering that I’ve heard a few years after they try and drown you, they start molesting you as well. Fucking hell, that’s a bad deal if you ask me. I’ll go with the other one that offers the 70 Virgins or whatever. Naa, scratch that, who the hell wants to teach that many people how to have sex? And then there’s all that blowing yourself up business as well. Sound grim, and to be honest I don’t have enough anger anymore to be militant. I’ll leave that for the 20-something crowd.

Fishy Fridays is simply the day I feed my dog’s sardines with their dinner. God, how boring is that huh? Useless info you didn’t need (or want) to know. Well, I did say I was struggling for material today though I suppose, if you think about it, it’s always Fortuitous Friday from their point of view. Not as fortuitous, however, as Thursday when I forgot to close the door to the spare room and the Sultan of Smart chewed his way into a 15kg bag of food I had just bought and partook in the Feast To End All Feasts. But definitely not fortuitous for She Who Will Be Named Later who discovered our bed, sofa, and sitting room drapes covered with the chewed, partially digested, and regurgitated remains of said feast.

I may have to change his name from the Sultan of Smart to the Viscount of Vomit as this is, unfortunately a recurring problem. I’ve got the vet on speed dial for special stomach medication to help him through these tough times. Over the years his tally of eaten (and often vomited) items includes:

1. A plastic bag.
2. A dead pigeon (swallowed whole, with feathers) off the road.
3. The same dead pigeon, off the same road, seconds after he regurgitated it.
4. An entire raw pheasant meant for Christmas dinner.
5. One pound of butter, foil included.
6. Ibid, separate occasion.
7. Own faeces following consumption of butter, above.
8. Butter and most of a plastic container, separate occasion.
9. Human faeces encountered in woods on walk (thank you Travellers).
10. Ibid, different woods.
11. 7kg bag dog food (partial).
12. Mouldy loaves of bread thrown on beach for gulls.
13. Perfectly good loaves of bread taken from counter.
14. Human vomit, sidewalk outside pub.
15. Bird food, fallen from feeder in yard.
16. Cat food, unguarded, while visiting family.
17. Mouldy bones in yard buried by previous dog the summer before.
18. 15kg bag, dog food (partial).
19. Plastic lid (partial) off garbage can.
20. Chicken carcass (entire) from garbage can, above.
21. Christmas Cake (documented here).

Yes, these darling, furry little creatures that we open our homes to are, at their very core, ruthless, disgusting scaveners. Why do we love them?

Oh, ya, when he's not eating everything I forget to strap down or hide, he's cool as shit, and has been my constant companion over five years across three countries. Truth be told he could vomit as much as he likes and I'd clean up after him every time- but for god sake don't tell him that!

Happy Friday Everyone!

Youghall Strand, Co. Cork, Ireland

Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada. Is it just me or did he look happier on the beach? Snow sucks, even dogs agree.

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