Sunday, July 24, 2011

Quit Buggin' Me!!!!

"Why Earwigs Totally Freak Me Out"
by: squirrel_e_girl

Earwigs totally freak me out because:
(in no particular order)
  • They look like this....

  • The first time I became aware of their existence, I was 7 or 8 years old hanging out in a dark musty old tent trailer that my parents had unfortunately rented for our first... actually ... our only family camping trip and the dark/musty/several hundred earwig combo didn't do a bunch to establish a foundation for a loving, trusting relationship.
  • They look like this...
Ahhhhh... Babies... How adorable.

  • They have pincers attached to their bums. 'Nuff said.
  • They look like this....

  • They have the creepily magical power to manifest out of thin air. I have no idea how the hell they do it or where the hell they come from but on more than one occasion, I've picked up a facecloth that has been draped on the side of my bathtub to dry or a dishcloth performing a similar act only on the edge of my kitchen sink and ... HOLY SHIT!!! Out scurries a nasty little earwig!! Quick!!! Smish the bepincered f@$ker!! And I've had this happen in the dead if winter. Sure...summer I get. Windows are open. Doors don't always get shut all the way...Lots of logical explanations as to how a single insect can show up in my bathroom. But in the winter??? Two storeys away from a basement?? I detect a whiff of sulphur-y brimstone, don't you??
  • They look like this...

  • They seem to randomly fall out of the sky .... onto my head. I challenge anybody ...Any. Body. .. to not spasm and spin about whilst squealing like a wee girl &/or swearing like a trucker if one of these foul little beasts lands on your head or falls down the back/front of your shirt. I've even heard tell of a incident where dozens dropped down onto a poor soul's head after he innocently opened a door into an outbuilding. DOZENS. I can't even bring myself to imagine. Goddamn.

  • They look like this...
Did you know they had wings?Yeah,neither did I.
  • They like to use my mailbox as some sort of clubhouse/community centre. Congregate elsewhere, you exoskeletal jerks.
  • They look like this....
  • They eat holes in my pretty flowers....grrrrrrrrrrr
  • They look like this....

  • Anything that has stories/myths/old wives' tales recounting the "fact" that it enjoys crawling down the ear canal of its unsuspecting sleeping victim then perforating its eardrums with those f@$king disturbing  pincers is no friend of mine. No how. No way. I don't care that I'm well-versed in the ways of the world and I logically realise that this horrifying phenomenon is but a mere story/myth/old wives' tale... some things just can't be un-imagined. Ever.

And, last but certainly not least...

  • They look like this...

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Philosophers Wanted -- Apply Within

Last week, when the calendar flipped up to reveal the fact that the month of July had already leapt into action 2-3 days previously (who looks at a calendar on a Long Weekend??), I started to get a wee bit antsy as it hit me that in order to meet my "One Blog Post/Month" promise to myself I needed to crank one out and I only had 28-29 days to do said cranking.

Alas, my squirrels have been taking it easy lately ... kicking back whilst listening to country tunes and enjoying this fine summer weather we've been having... and no one's been trying to swipe my Intellectual Property so I've been a little light in the Blog Post Fodder Department.

 ~An Aside - My 3 new-to-me fave songs: "Knee Deep"- a happy summertime song, "Truck Got Stuck"-awesome fun country music story-telling at its finest & "This is Country Music"<--Who has two thumbs and ADORES Brad Paisley? You guessed it... This Guy!~

I've been asked by a couple of people how I come up with ideas to write about ("a couple of people" = "my parents") and I've had a difficult time not feeling like a complete poser/wanker when I throw down my stock answer...which is: "I patiently wait for inspiration to strike, then I follow the tiny fledgling idea anywhere it chooses to soar and explore"

Well, lucky you guys!!!! This morning, I was struck/stricken!!!

Inspiration appeared to me in the lovely and delicate form of a butterfly ... and dog poop.

Since, as previously noted, I work at a "Pooch & Kitty Holiday Camp" AND I am a Walker of Dogs AND I share a home with 2 hounds (and oft times more), I have the glorious pleasure of spending the bulk of my time surrounded by dogs..."Dog People" are now breathing a collective sigh of appreciation/admiration/envy, while "Non-Dog People" are now shuddering a collective "Goddamn That'd Suck" shudder.

Actually, now that I mention it....

**Special Note to Non-Dog People &/or Mildly Squeamish People... The rest of this post is focused primarily on Dog Poop and how it relates to Butterflies and Life ... So if you're so-so on Dog Poop you may want to wrap it up here, but if you also happen to be super keen on Butterflies &/or Life you may want to stick around.

Ok...where was I???

I hang out with dogs pretty much on a full-time basis so, rather logically, I am exposed to dog poop more than any normal person would/should be. I've long ago gotten over the whole ick-factor of canine excrement, therefore, it's no big schmoo for me to deal with it and probably why I've seen fit to write a blog post based on poop....Hmmmmm... That said, perhaps I should look into a new line of work ... Nah :)

So, this morning, I was at work supervising the pooches as they frolicked about in The Garden (the owners of the kennel are English ... and are awesome ...and use awesome English alternative words/phrases like: 'The Garden', 'The Corridor', 'Titivate' -- it's a verb meaning 'to quickly tidy/clean/spruce up', 'Trod' -- as in "Looks like you've just trod in some poo", and 'Nutter' -- as in "'That bloke...He's a right nutter" ....HA!! Love it! Love them.)

Meanwhile.... Back in The Garden...

I was hangin' with some hounds and had just reached the conclusion that... No, in fact, it is NOT the heat... Indeed, it IS the humidity, when I noticed 2 maybe 3 lovely butterflies fluttering by.

It was as though they were searching.

Seeking out something wondrously important.

Their desired destination couldn't possibly be any typical butterfly hot-spot like, say, a flower, because, despite being referred to as The Garden, there is, ironically, nary a blossom in sight. But one by one, in their own sweet butterfly-y time, these beautiful, fragile creatures alit upon a lone island oasis of .... dog poop.

I already noticed this phenomenon on several occasions in the recent past and had thought to myself, "Huh? Butterflies dig dog poop. Whoodda thunk?" but today, for whatever reason, my previous thoughts evolved into something more.

Butterflies actually seeking out dog poop....That's gotta mean something. Why else would The Universe keep bringing this activity to my attention?

There has to be one hugely important life lesson to be learned from this bizarro juxtaposition of these wildly disparate citizens of The Universe. Maybe a lesson akin to "If life hands you lemons, make lemonade" ...only.... different... Something along the line of "When you come up a little short on flowers, you might as well take advantage of whatever else you happen to find. Like, for instance, dog poop."

Or maybe this will spawn a brand spankin' new colourfully affirmative reply...If someone asks me, "Do you like country music?", instead of my usual retort, "Does a bear poop in the woods?", I'll just have to start answering, "Does a butterfly like dog poop?".

I truly believe, with all my weirdo heart, that there must some how be some way to draw some sort of significant life analogy from this grossly odd/oddly gross pairing.

This is where I'm asking ... no ... I'll even go so far as to say that I am imploring all you Philosophers of Life (certified &/or self-proclaimed &/or otherwise) floating around out there in this Grand Blogosphere to step in and help me out. (PoochBuddha, I'm looking directly at you, Dude...ha)

Butterflies. Dog poop. Life.

What does it all mean?

Like I said before... It's gotta mean something.

Doesn't it?