The Domestic Me – The Institute For Teach Cook: Episode one – Cooking: Why I Don’t

You can usually tell when Judy is out of town by looking at me. That’s because I loose weight, and that’s because I don’t put pots and pans into the dishwasher, and that’s because I don’t do anything that would mess them up. Meaning, of course, I don’t cook much when she’s gone.

Why don’t I cook? Well, in point of fact, I do. I have a serviceable microwave and a toaster, both of which are well within walking distance of  the refrigerator… And I have pretty much figured out  how to use them.

And, in the refrigerator, there is food. Fortunately, some of it doesn’t require much actual preparation. Even more fortunately, some of it (about 95% of what I use – the other 5% is Ice Cream) actually IS the preparation. It’s called milk.

Milk is an amazingly versatile food product in that it can be used in the preparation of a whole plethora of meals that don’t require actual heating, and some (one) that only require minimal heating.

Two that come to mind are Carnation Instant Breakfast and Quaker Instant Oatmeal, both of which are stapels of my “Judy ain’t around” dietary plan. And, for variety, I like to switch the oatmeal off with Cheerios or Wheat Chex on occasion. Or have one for breakfast and one for dinner.

Another food that is well accompanied by milk is Oreo Cookies. as well as the occasional Chips Ahoy. And then there’s the ultimate in my culinary talents, Skipy Super Chunk Peanut Butter, of which I consume copious amounts, both with bread and with a spoon.

I also consume minute amounts of raisins (mixed in with the oatmeal, usually), bananas (which I usually eat alone – somehow dunking a banana into milk just isn’t the same as performing the same chore with an Oreo) and walnuts (which I keep in a big blue plastic party cup on my desk to stave off those hunger pangs while I am working). Most of those don’t require much milk, though.

So, as you can see, I have all of the basic food groups covered with my dietary plan:

Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, Desert and In Between Meal Snacks.

How much more balanced can a guy be?

OK.. I can cook.. I have cooked in the past. But when I cook, I dirty up pots and pans, and they don’t do well in the dish washer – they take up too much room and you can only fit a couple of them at one time. And that wastes water and energy (mine). And Judy won’t wash them by hand.

Ergo, I don’t cook…


To read “The Fashionable Me’ and learn my valuable secrets on spring fashion, click here…



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Directions to J and D’s house


  1. Drive to San Jose
  2. Pick an Almaden Exit and take it
  3. Drive .3 miles
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  11. Recalculating
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  18. Arrive at some destination on left on Almaden

J and D live on Lanewood…

Oh Christmas Tree…

You may be wondering why I am writing on this topic today, it being February 13th, and all. After all, it is still about 10.5 months before Christmas, isn’t it?

No, actually, it’s about 1.5 months AFTER Christmas…

This past Christmas, we, like most Americans, put up a Christmas tree. There is nothing unusual about this – we, like most Americans, do this every year and have done so since the year we were born.

Each year we put it up, decorate it beautifully, throw presents beneath it on Christmas Eve and take it down after the Christmas Season (which actually ends in early January, about the 8th).

Nothing changed this year in that regard… But…

Something did change this time around, and it has caused us some confusion…

For the last very many years, we have had an artificial Christmas Tree.. Not that we don’t like real trees, but it seemed like a good idea at the time we bought it very many years ago.

Why did we buy an artificial tree?

  • We got tired of needles falling off and getting into the carpet.
  • And everywhere else.
  • We thought it would be easy to just keep it in the garage all year round and throw it together at Christmas time, thereby saving us the hassle of going out and looking for ‘just the right one’ every year. (I don’t have a problem picking one out – it’s usually in the first group of one that I look at. However, I seem to be in the minority in that regard, with Judy being the majority.)
  • It would save us money in the long run because it would pay for itself after a few years (about ten of them as it turns out).
  • It came with one thousand, six hundred lights already attached, so it would save time stringing them ourselves.
    • Also saving me from possible electrocution, and/or having to go to confession for using The Lord’s name in vain. Before the fake tree, I always waited to go to confession until after the erection of the tree.
    • This meant that we had to put the tree up quite early in the season. And this may explain the dry needles all over the place.

This (last) year, however, we decided to go au natural in the tree department. This was a multi-faceted decision based on several things.

  • First, the fact that it really wasn’t so easy to put the thing together. In reality, it was a long arduous process, and it always led to multiple cuts, scratches and abrasions on unprotected hands, arms and faces due to the requirement for shaping the hundreds of branches. Assembly required gloves, long sleeve shirts, goggles, etc.
    • This job is dangerous. Naked people need not apply.
  • Another factor in the decision was storage of the tree after Christmas. The same hazards listed above combined with the fact that every year, the Christmas Tree box seemed to get just a little bit smaller. This, of course, made it just a little bit more difficult to restore the tree to it’s natural state of hibernation in the off season.
  • Finally, also helping the decision along was the fact that the tree (and all of our decorations) was stored in the garage, and the garage went when the house burned down. One of the MANY mixed blessings that the fire provided…

OK – so we got a real tree this year. It was GREAT! It smelled like a tree! And decorating it was actually kinda fun! All who saw it loved it, especially Judy and me. We had a slight challenge in that Max seemed to acquire a taste for pine needles, but other than that, it was good.

Until it came time to take it down…

Removing the decorations was easy, figuring out what to do with the thing was not… We have been trying to figure out what to do with the now dead tree – we don’t think we’re supposed to just put it out with the trash… We are attempting find that out but haven’t yet received an answer.

At least we got it out of the house. It’s right outside our back door and Judy thinks it looks out of place…

I, on the other hand, think it goes well the the natural surroundings, don’t you?


Methodicus Folliculous Fixus – Part Three of the Bed Hair Trilogy

The Bed Hair Trilogy – Part Three

The Grand Finally

(As in “it’s finally done”)

Click here to start at the beginning (Part One)

In the first two segments of this series, we have almost thoroughly discussed the subject of Bed Hair.

We have seen the manifestations of the condition.

We have learned that our pets are, for the most part, immune to its ravages, and that they will almost certainly go out of their way to keep from warning us that we are in possession of a good case of the stuff.

We have determined that some fortunate historical figures have been able to turn their Bed Hair disadvantage into a vehicle for achieving huge success in the fields of art, music, science and military domination.

But what about the rest of us? What about the guy who has no aspirations of world domination? Or the woman who is content being a bank president? What about those of us who just don’t want to be the objects of ridicule and laughter when we venture forth into public?

And what about the guy who just wants to be better off than his dog?

Unfortunately, we can’t all be Einstein, Genghis Kahn or Marie Pres d’le Porte, so we have to find a way of fixing Bed Hair. But how can the normal, every day citizen of the world be set free from the heartbreak of Folliculus Disruptus? Is there any prospect of deliverance?

Yes, in point of fact, there is. And this brings us to the promised land known in scientific circles as Methodicus Folliculus Fixus – Methods of Fixing Bed Hair.

In this paper, we shall investigate an experimental “cure” for the dreaded ailment. We will also be made aware of some currently available “home remedies” which you can try yourself for little or minimal investment.

Before we embark on our discussion of the experimental permanent cure, it must be prefaced with the:

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers relative to any attempt by any person or persons unqualified to perform the following procedures on him or herself, or other human person or persons living or dead, with or without written consent, either written or oral or sign language in either English or non-English language; or on any non-human person, whether canine or feline or any other non-human species either living or dead, existent or non-existent, with or without consent, either written or oral or sign language, in any language, either English or non-English or paw strokes on the ground or in the dirt; or any attempt by any non-human person or persons unqualified to perform the following described experimental procedures on itself or any other non-human person or persons, either living or dead, existent or non-existent, with or without consent either written or oral or sign language, in either English or non-English or any non-human language; or on any human person living or dead, existent or non-existent, with or without consent, either written or oral or sign language, in either English or non-English language or any non-human language, being dangerous and hazardous to your health.

THESE PROCEDURES MUST ONLY BE PERFORMED BY PROFESSIONALS –

DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!

Now, on to the real crux of the matter: How do we fix this thing?

The experimental procedure was developed by Dr. Biff Smothers of the Biff Smothers Hair Restoration Center in Hairlip Falls, MN.

One day in the spring of 1979, Dr. Smothers awoke at his usual time of 5:00 A.M. He hit the snooze button his customary thirteen times, and one hour and fifty-seven minutes later he came to his now normal daily realization that he was running a tad behind. The fact of the matter was that he was supposed to greet his first patient at 7:15 in the morning, and his clinic was twelve miles away.

Each day he found himself in the unenviable position of having to decide whether to take a shower or get dressed before he mounted his trusty steed (he drove a 1967 Mustang, blue with rust colored trim) to the office. Invariably, he arrived at the office fully dressed (though, more often than not, his socks didn’t match).

This, of course, meant that he did not take time to shower. Or shave. Or comb his hair. And this, of course, far more often than not, lead to public displays of Bed Hair of varying severity. In fact, on a scale of one to ten, with ten being extremely severely severe, he was usually about an eleven.

After about five years of this routine, he began to notice that his client base had dwindled somewhat. In fact, of the one hundred thirty-seven regular patients he had developed over the years, he had only nine left…  Three receding hairlines, two Friar Tucks and four early teen-agers who wanted desparately to grow beards so they could be “real men”.

Business was so bad that he had to let all of his help go, but to maintain his image as a successful hair practitioner, he told his patients that his entire staff was either out to lunch, not in yet or on vacation, depending on what time of day the question was asked.

Dr. Smothers was more than a little dismayed at this gradual turn of events. Even his own brother had finally decided to let his hair fall out naturally (a condition we will discuss later in the treatise). And as luck would have it, it was this very same wayward (and balding) brother who finally provided him with the insight and inspiration that he would need to save his practice and develop the currently experimental, though very promising, technique of artificially curing Bed Hair.

It seems that on this particular day, Dr. Smothers’ brother was taking his dog to the dog groomer for his bi-monthly pedicure, and decided to stop by and visit with his brother.

When he arrived, he found his brother in the doldrums over his failing practice and, after a rather lengthy exchange (the details of which I have already deleted from this account), it was finally revealed that the reason for Dr. Smothers’ business problems was his own terrible case of Bed Hair.

What’s that I hear? “Give me a break!” “How could even the worst case of Bed Hair possible substantially contribute to anyone’s business failure?”

I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s absolutely true. Making a long, long, long story short, here’s what happened…

For years people came to Dr. Smothers to get help in saving, or if necessary, growing new hair. He became known as a genius in the ways of hair preservation. People came from thousands of miles around to have the good doctor facilitate their follicles. Hair loss was stopping, baldness was reversing and fame and fortune were his…

Life was good.

Then, in 1974, Dr. Smothers took up writing short stories and articles in magazines. He did this in his off hours and would stay up late into the night (early into the morning, actually) writing away.

This caused him to be too tired to get up in the morning to properly prepare himself for the day at the office and, consequently, his severe bouts with Bed Hair.

Now, when his patients began seeing his outrageous problem, they began to stay away in droves. Why? Because – and this is the truth – they figured that they would rather be bald than have a full head of hair with even the remotest possibility of looking as ridiculous as their former hero, Dr. Smothers.

“Bald is beautiful,” they proclaimed, “or, at least, it’s better than the alternative!” (Now you know where that saying came from.)

At the exact moment of his realization of this new found truth, Dr. Smothers coincidentally cast his eyes upon his brother’s dog, Fabian. His hair-trained eye meandered along the entire length of the beast, observing the perfect arrangement of every hair. No frizzes. No unruly curls. No kinks, points, horns, spikes or un-natural waves…

“You must spend hours combing Fabian’s hair,” he said to his brother.

“Not at all,” his brother replied, “we never touch it.”

“Come on,now! You must! Just look at it – it’s always perfect!”

“Nope! That’s just the way it is. All dog’s hair is like that – except for the Rhodesian Ridgeback Hound.”

Click.

A light went on..

“Do you mean to tell me that dogs don’t get this hair thing?”

“That’s right. Why?”

Ring.

A bell sounded…

“I wonder,” he wondered. “Could it be done?… Is it possible?…”

We now know that it is indeed possible, thanks to Biff Smothers, his brother and his brother’s dog, Fabian.

Today there are forty-seven former Bed Hair victims walking the streets of America. Forty-seven people taking part in one of the greatest medical experiments of the past two centuries. Forty-seven who not only volunteered, but who actually paid to have this procedure done so that the world might be able to rid itself of the scourge of Bed Hair…

Dr. Smothers has named his procedure ‘Canis Transplantus’…

Here’s how he made it work…

First, the patient’s head is completely shaved in a procedure called ‘Cranial Folliculus Disappearus’.

Second, several plugs of canine hair are extracted from a willing dog.

Third, the plugs are surgically implanted into the scalp of the patient in a procedure called ‘Cranial Folliculus Insertus’. And…

Voila!!!!!!! The patient is now virtually immune from Bed Hair!

Q: So, if this is so good, why is this procedure only experimental?

A: Good question. There is a downside to the procedure. About 23 per cent of patients who have had the procedure done have reported some minor side effects. These can include, but may not be limited to:

    • The urge to stare hypnotically into the speaker horns of old Victrola record players.
    • The urge to make sudden stops at fire hydrants, trees and telephone polls to mark you territory.
    • The urge to chase cars, both moving and parked.
    • And the urge to lift one’s leg when using restroom facilities (it’s wise for these people to carry a mop and a plastic bag with them wherever they ‘go’).

These are being worked on even as you read this report.

In the interim, there are a few things you can do to minimize the negative effects of Bed Hair in your life. I take the liberty to list some of them here:

    1. Have someone who you really trust perform the ‘Cranial Folliculus Disappearus’ procedure on you.
    2. If you are fortunate enough to be going bald naturally (Scalpus Kojackus), continue to do so, and don’t worry about it (that’s easy for me to say).
    3. Go Punk (Folliculus Stupidus Punkus) – nobody will be able to tell the difference anyway.
    4. Sleep on satin pillow cases (Folliculus Slidus). This will almost eliminate the friction of your head against the pillow – a major cause of Bed Hair. (There is the problem, however, of your head slipping all over the pillow throughout the night, thereby keeping you awake.)
    5. Wear a wig (Folliculus Fakus).

And this brings us back to out hero, Dr. Biff Smothers because…

In the mean time, Dr. Smothers has created an ancillary business utilizing the doffed hair remaining after the ‘Cranial Folliculus Disappearus” procedure. He has developed a way to take the shaved hair, implant it into a synthetic mambrane (also of his design), and grow new hair! In effct, he is now growing thirty acres of living wigs on what could be referred to as his ‘removable hair farm’, but which he prefers to call…

Biff Smothers Doff Crops..

Ahem…

Driving High…

Hello friends.. Kammerer here again..

You may think, by the title of todays offering, that I am about to embark on an object lesson on Driving while intoxicated.  Tut tut!  Nothing could be further from the truth..

Rather, I am about to relate a tale about getting from one place to another, not by driving, but by flying. Not really so unusual an event.  Lots of people fly from point A to point B every day. In fact I did that tonight, myself.  I flew from Phoenix, AZ to Fresno, CA. I did the exact opposite on Sunday, after a brief five hour layover in Fresno. (Of course, my starting point WAS fresno, but that’s another tale for another time.)

You may even have flown, yourself, at some point..  You may have flown from San Diego to Seattle. Or from New York to London.  Or even from Rome to Salt Lake City.

And if you have ever flown anywhere at all, it probably would have been for good reason – like it’s too far to drive. Or you wanted to get there sooner than you would if you drove.  Or you like peanuts and Ginger Ale.

Indeed, the biggest excuse for flying is option one – it’s too far to drive. In fact, I would venture to guess that we choose our reasons for picking any form of transportation based on distance..

  • You decide to walk because it’s too far to sit your way to the refrigerator.
  • You decide to ride a skateboard because it’s to far to walk to your BFF’s house.
  • You decide to ride a bike because it’s too far to ride a skateboard to the local park to watch an exhilarating Lawn Bowling Match.
  • You decide to drive because it’s too far to ride your bike to the ball game.
  • You decide to fly because it’s too far to drive from Florida to Antarctica.

As you can see, there is a direct correlation between the distance to be traversed and the method of traversing that distance..

Usually, if one is to fly somewhere, the distance to the destination would probably be something more than a couple of hundred miles.  Say, from Los Angeles to Fresno (but only if you want to end up in Portland, OR via Salt Lake City, UT.  That’s because you can’t get directly from Fresno to where you want to go without going to at least one place you don’t want to go, first.  And the reverse is true, also – you can’t get to Fresno without going  – well, you get the idea. But I digress and, again, that’s another topic for another report.)

Suffice it to say that people fly because where they want to go is a very long way from where they are. You don’t fly from your house to the grocery store, but you do fly from your house to the other side of the country.

Unless your name is Hildegard (perhaps not your real name). And you need to get from Burbank to Orange county. A distance of 52.2 miles. And you don’t like traffic between airports.

Yes, my friend Hildy  (short for what is perhaps not her real name) used to fly from Burbank to Orange county…

Now 52.2 miles is well within normal “driving” distance, but I can see where someone might want to fly so short a distance if they really hate driving (or bicycling, or skateboarding or walking.  I have to draw the line there, though, because 52.2 miles really is way to far to sit your way there.)

I have reservations about this habit, though, because my friend probably lived somewhere between the two airports, and she probably wanted to get somewhere also between the two airports.  This would reduce the distance between her house and her desired destination to something below 52.2 miles.

And when you take into consideration that her house is probably not right outside the Burbank Airport gate, and her destination is, likewise, not right outside the John Wayne Airport gate, you could end up with a fairly large reduction in distance to be traveled in order to get from point A to point B.

Let’s assume that you live in an area where there is a gas station relatively close by. Let us also assume that you want to go some place that is also near a gas station. You can automatically reduce the distance from 52.2 miles to a maximum of 32.2 miles.*

*This is based on the Bill Kammerer law of “It’s Impossible To Find A Gas Station Within Ten Miles Of Any Airport That Actually Exists In Reality”.  **

Now the 32.2 mile figure assumes that you actually live at the gas station. This is not often the case in real life, so we can assume that there is a further reduction to be had by locating the residence some minimal distance from the gas station.

Let’s also assume that, because if you live in a gas station, you are probably not going to drive very far to get to a gas station and, therefore, your desired destination is also probably not at the gas station, either.

So what’s a good minimal distance from the gas station for your house? I’d say at least a mile.  For the sake of reality, let’s also apply the same minimal distance to the destination/gas station ratio.

Hence, the distance is now 30 miles. (Figure rounded to the closest whole number for the sake of keeping me from having to go and correct the rest of the figures below.)

But wait! What if your house is not right in the commercial district of Burbank, but is located some distance away in a nice middle class suburban neighborhood?

Ah… Add another 4 miles to the distance to the gas station from your house.  And that distance will always be further from the airport than from the gas station, so we now have a further reduction of 4 miles, or 26.2 miles between home and where you want to go.

We will further assume that “destination” is in not in a commercial district of some sort, but is in a business park. And because business parks are usually located out in the middle of absolutely nowhere, we must move it another 10 miles away from where it really isn’t in the first place.

So, now we are at about 16 miles between points A and B.

At this point, it may be helpful to see exactly where we are…

Your residence is 15.1 miles away from Burbank Airport.

Your desired destination is 21.1 miles away from John Wayne Airport.

This gives you a combined distance away from the airports of 36.2 miles

Total distance between airports = 52.2 miles

Combined distance away from airports = 36.2 miles

52.2 – 36.2 = 16 miles between home and destination.

OK, so now you are 16 miles from where you want to go. So let’s fly there, shall we?

Drive 15.1 miles from home to the Burbank Airport      15.1

Fly 52.2 miles to John Wayne Airport                               52.2

Drive 21.1 miles to destination                                            21.1

15.1 + 52.2 + 21.1 = 88.4

You have just gone 88.4 miles to get 16 miles.

Then, once you got to the JW Airport,  you had to rent a car.

Then flew back to the Burbank Airport. Once you got there, you paid for parking for your car and drove it home.

And all of this doesn’t take into account the fact that you probably drove half way there in the plane just getting to and down the runway.

I have to go to Sacramento in the morning, a distance of about 200 miles. I have decided to drive. Largely because there’s never a Space Shuttle available when you need one…

Also, I’m not a member of Congress…

___________________________________________________________________

 

**  The two exceptions I have found are in Aspen, CO and Sacrmento, CA.

I can’t really count the one in Aspen because they charge about 1.5 times the national average for a gallon of gasoline.

The one is Sacramento is pretty awesome – it’s right there on the airport grounds and you have to pass it to get to the terminals and the rental car return.   The problem with that, though, is that if you rented your car in Atlanta and feel obligated to return it to the same location from which you acquired it on time to catch your return flight home, you can’t  return it in Sacramento, can you?

Testing.. Testing…

Testing – testing – one-two-three… Testing…

This is a test of the new WordPress “Publicize” feature. This is only a test.

Had this been an actual post, I would have written something other than “Testing – testing – one-two-three… Testing…  This is a test of the new WordPress “Publicize” feature. This is only a test.”

However, this is only a test, so you can ignore it. Of course, if you are interested in my test, you are welcome to read it.

BUT… If you aren’t interested, I cannot force you to read this test. I wouldn’t, even if I could, so don’t wory about it – you won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t read this.

Of course, if you don’t read this, you won’t know that it really doesn’t bother me that you choose not to read this test, and that might make you think you hurt my feelings. And that would bother me because I don’t want you to feel obligated to read this test.

That being the case, please read because if you don’t, you may develop serious guilt pangs, believing that I am bothered by the fact that you didn’t, and I’m sure you have better things to feel guilty over than not reading my test.

So in the long run, it might be better just to read this, and get it over with, in order to avoid unjustified feelings of guilt which can lead to depression which (in severe cases) may lead to over eating and slothful habbits which may lead to unwanted weight gain which can (in severe cases) lead to deepening depression and, in the long run, more unwanted weight gain.

Of course, there is the slim chance that you might make a lucky guess that I won’t be bothered if you don’t read my test, in which case you may not develop unwarranted feelings of guilt and all of the unwanted weight gain associated with it. In that case, you don’t need to read my test. It’s your choice, so make it… Dosen’t bother me in the least… Just make sure you guess right, and don’t come crying to me if you guess wrong and end up weighing 900 pounds.

Of course, on the positive side, if you guess wrong, you can sit anywhere you want.

Why Dogs Don’t Get Bed Hair or Why You Can’t Trust Your Own Dog – Part Two of the Bed Hair Trilogy

In our last discussion, we learned all about Bed Hair. We learned about how it creeps up on you in the night.

While you sleep.

We learned that it gives no hint of it’s existence through any of our physical senses except for eyesight. We cannot directly hear, taste smell or feel it.

Notice the word ‘directly’.. for, while we cannot detect the ailment physically through any of these other four senses,we can detect when someone else has seen it in ourselves.

For example, we can hear someone whispering behind our back about how ridiculous we look with our ‘hair like that’.

We learned that Bed Hair makes no distinction between classes of people – it strikes anyone within reach of its’ pernicious tentacles – ever searching for that one last victim.

We learned that (contrary to the general population of the planet) some famous historical figures have made their fortunes, not in spite of this hideous disfigurement, but because of it.

We learned that Bed Hair has been known to cause a loving spouse to abandon his or her chosen partner to horrible indignation rather than be exposed to the ridicule of others over a mild case of Bed Hair.

And we learned that you cannot trust your dog when you are in your underwear.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, brings us to the topic of today’s discussion:  “Why You Can’t Trust Your Own Dog“.

Shocked? Astounded? Offended? Please, hear me out! All I ask is that you read on with an open mind and reserve judgement until you have all of the available information…

Let me begin by stating my own previous faith in ‘man’s best friend’.

I used to have faith in dogs.

There. I said it.

Now, I shall proceed to demonstrate why I believe that dogs are truly not to be trusted in matters of hair…

Dogs have been touted as being man’s best friend for the last forty centuries, or so. They have received rave reviews for their unceasing loyalty to their masters, and several popular myths exist regarding the special relationship between a human and his or her dog.

They have, somehow, wangled a sterling twenty-four carat reputation as perfect fetchers of newspapers, slippers, sticks and all manner of other items small enough to fit into their slobbery mouths. True enough, but have you ever put your foot into a slipper filled with dog slobber? Or retrieved a news paper in the same condition?

I have, and I must say that it was very difficult to bring myself to tell the beast ‘Good dog! Good dog!’. Unfortunately, conventional wisdom dictates that you say that when your dog fetches you something, so, like an idiot, that’s what I said.

And all the while the mutt was laughing at me…

No matter what you do, your dog will always love you, or so they say. You’ve seen it a hundred times, probably even experienced it yourself. You come dragging in from work at the end of the day and who is there to greet you?

Your wife? Your kids? The police?

Sure!  They’re all there but, besides the police, who does the best job of saying ‘Hello’? Your dog, that’s who! You bet! Old Rex sees you coming, charges at full speed and leaps upon you, tongue sloshing all over your face, arms and any other exposed skin you might be in possession of. And what do you do? You take it! And you’re happy about it!

And what’s old Rex thinking through it all? Why, he’s thinking “Look at this idiot! If he only knew all the places this tongue has been today!”!

Now, I freely admit that his is all conjecture on my part. There is no way I can prove that your dog has anything less than completely honorable intentions when he performs the above ‘tricks’. There is no way for me to get into his mind and read his thoughts and project them for you to examine for yourself.

“So,” you ask, “how do you know that dogs can’t be trusted?”

I will now demonstrate, using only verifiable empirical evidence that dogs cannot be trusted.

Remember, if you will, our hero from our discussion on Bed Hair. Remember when he let the dogs out for their morning constitutional? Remember when he locked himself out of the house? Remember when the dogs warned him not to go to the front door because Judy, his wife,would never come to the door to let him in because she had a raging case of Bed Hair?

No?

Well, remember when you went out to the end of the driveway to get the paper? Remember when the neighbors went hysterical when they saw you? Remember when your dog warned you not to go outside because you had a severe case of Bed Hair?

No?

You see? You remember everything except the dogs’ warnings.

Why? BECAUSE THEY DIDN’T WARN YOU!!  THAT’S WHY!!

Face it, dogs don’t warn us when we have bed hair. If, as common myth alleges, dogs are man’s best friend, why don’t they let us know that we look completely absurd before we go out into public?

Why can’t you trust your dog?

BECAUSE DOGS DON’T HAVE BED HAIR, THAT’S WHY!

Think for a minute…

When was the last time your saw a dog with Bed Hair? Unless you have been to Africa, you have probably never seen the Rhodesian Ridgeback Hound. And if you have never seen one of  those, you have never seen a dog with Bed Hair.*

* This piece of information comes to me courtesy of my friend – I’ll just call him ‘Mysterious Fair Haired Friend’. Having lived in Africa for many years as a child of missionary parents, he has first hand knowledge of the creature.

What does that have to do with the trustworthiness of a dog?

Think again…

For thousands of years, dogs have been constantly humiliated by human beings of all races, creeds, colors and orientations.

They have been forced to jump through hoops.

They have been coerced into lying down and playing dead, feet sticking straight up into the sky.

And, perhaps worst of all, they have had to endure names like ‘fido’, ‘Babette”, ‘Spot’ and ‘Speedbump’.

Wouldn’t you be mad?

They have been called ‘Dumb Animals’. They may be dumb, but we shall see that they are certainly not stupid…

Dogs have been at our mercy from the very beginning of history, and have had no choice in the matter. They are an inferior creature to us in every way.

Except one.

They just don’t get Bed Hair.

Why not? I wish I could say.

No, it isn’t fair.

No, it isn’t right.

No, there isn’t anything we can do about it.

And therein lies the problem… They KNOW we can’t do anything about it.

They know that they are superior to us in this one area. they have us at a disadvantage.

And they know it.

They know it.

Lord help us, they know it…

So you think they are doing anything to reduce that advantage? Would you?

SHOOT NO, YOU WOULD NOT! AND NEITHER WOULD THEY!!

They are NOT going to let it slip through their paws. Why should they? we are their favorite form of entertainment!

Who’s fault is it that we are in this predicament? Our own.

Why is it our fault?

BECAUSE WE HAVE NEVER LOOKED FOR A WAY TO GIVE DOGS BED HAIR! THAT’S WHY!!

Is there anything we can do to counteract this disadvantage?

No. And yes…

What kind of answer is that?  Read on…

While it is certainly true that there is not short term way to genetically give dogs the ability to achieve Bed Hair Status, the news isn’t all bad.

There are new experimental ‘cures’ which may soon yield positive results to human sufferers of the condition. These experiments will be outlined in a paper, soon to be released by this reporter, entitled:

Methodicus Folliculus Fixus

For the first time in the long history of human suffering (and canine delight in said suffering), someone has taken positive steps toward offering hope to the minions who endure both the disorder and the treacherous behavior of their trusted pets

The key word here is HOPE.

HOPE… HOPE…

Is there really hope here? Of course there is.

Maybe…

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Next up… Methodicus Folliculus Fixus…

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