Something Wicked This Way... Waddles

Mike and I do something that I'm guessing we probably shouldn't - we toss food into the tree-filled area behind the condo.  Old apples that have gotten too mealy, stale crackers, etc.  We like to think that we are feeding the already overweight squirrels, but I had a feeling that they weren't the only mammals out there.

And then I saw this monstrosity.

I am 95% sure that this raccoon has rabies.  This is based on the fact that I know nothing about rabies.  But why is it walking like that?  His back is arched and weird, and if you could have seen him running, you would have thought that something was a little... off.

Right, so Kelly and I chased him into the woods and then went to Dairy Queen.  As you do.  This is what I found when I came home.

He's got the laser eyes!

ADDENDUM: I'm now pretty sure that the thing was pregnant.  CHECK BACK FOR PROOF.

I Am Terrible At Laundry

I am terrible at laundry.  I mean, I know enough to separate clothes by color, because if I washed all whites with that lone red sock, I would just be way too cliche to even write about.  And I've actually never done that. Surprisingly.

No, I am terrible at remembering that I am doing laundry.  I don't know how many times Mike has walked past the washing machine and asked if I meant to leave the lid open.  For two hours.

My parents' old washer let you leave the lid open and it would begin the cycle with no problems.  I always thought that it was fun to watch as different items of clothes would get slowly sucked underwater, and I would sometimes save small things like socks so that I could add them one by one and watch them slowly drown.

That's normal, right?

But today, I remembered to add soap and close the washer lid.  I remembered to move the clean clothes to the dryer.  I remembered to add a dryer sheet, and I remembered to turn on the machine.

But apparently, I did not remember to check pockets.

Not only did I wash my super sweet pedometer - which is now broken and I will never again know how many steps I took in a given day - but I washed an unused feminine product.  The results were... so weird.

Great.

And then, I started seeing this weird, clear... goo all over the clothes.  I don't know what else to call it.  It was sort of like a bunch of mini insect eggs or something, but that thought caused me to dry-heave, so I returned to square one in my investigation.

Nice camera skillz, right?

It wasn't until I found the pink wrapper that I figured it out: a pantiliner.  Wonderful.

From then on, it was all about finding the pad itself.  I totally forgot what brand this is, but they should use a similar tactic in their advertising campaigns.  "Feminine pads!  They soak up all of the water in your washing machine!  They hold four gallons of liquid!"

I mean, this fucker filled up like a balloon.  That is brilliant! Imagine if you...  ew.  Nevermind.  NEVERMIND.

Oh, God.

Ranking My Popularity

So blogger has this whole new interface, including the way in which I post and view my behind-the-scenes portions of my blog.  One of the new tools allows me to see the number of page views that I get per post.  Here are the top ten posts since I started blogging in 2005:

10. Stupid Sexy Flanders
I think that I was just looking for an excuse to post that picture.  And I think that people were just googling "stupid sexy flanders" in order to find this picture.

9. The Young Victoria
Oh, how I loved this film. I know that Hollywood is running out of ideas (see: every superhero/comic book movie made in the past five years), so it's just refreshing when a well-acted movie with a good script comes along. And the pretty costumes!

8. Diet Pop Can Suck It
Wow, this was an embarrassingly shitty post.

7. Listen to the Song of Life
Another post where I probably should have just gone to bed.

6. It Was Like a Gory, Nasty, Super Bad Horror Movie, But Grosser
It doesn't matter how many words I devoted to that post, because that experience will never be accurately described.  It was a true example of "You had to be there."  And trust me - you did NOT want to be there.

5. Masters of the Universe
I love Netflix, I do.  Netflix allows me to watch obscure tv shows and documentaries, but Netflix also made it possible for Mike to get this movie.  And then I had to watch it (in retaliation for making him watch Atonement).

I just reread my post.  God, I crack myself up.

"But sneaky Gwildor returns them to Earth the morning BEFORE Julie's parents die in a fiery plane crash, and everything is all hunky-dory and Julie doesn't have to move to New Jersey after all, which would probably be worse than having dead parents anyway."

4. Zombieland
A fun movie that should help you prepare for the inevitable zombie apocalypse!  Great acting.

3. A Walking Tour of L'Enfant Promenade
Awwww, I miss Shooze. Not so much L'Enfant Promenade, though.

2. Traffic Circles. If You're Scared of Them, Then GO A DIFFERENT WAY OH MY GOD
"Do you want to know who is good at traffic circles? ME. Do you want to know who is not good at traffic circles? EVERYONE ELSE."

..............................................

And number one? It really surprised me.  I don't know what I thought that it would be, but this one post has 1,686 page views to date (!!!).  So other people love bad movies, too.  Apparently.

1. Judge Dredd: A Real Time Recap
"Oh sweet Christ, it's Rob Schneider. Okay, clearly they want me to hate this movie. He's just been released from prison for doing... something. He's wearing cargo shorts. It doesn't seem like that would be too smart in the third fucking millennium with the scorched, cursed earth, but what do I know?"

We Went to the Farm and Named a Goat

So we have these friends who have a ton of land and just happen to own farm animals. It's a pretty sweet set-up, if you don't mind shoveling cow shit day in and day out.  They have goats for fun and chickens for fun and profit (eggs!), and two cows that they are raising until... well, until they get hungry.

So there's that.

The cows and one of the goats are extremely sociable.  They have personality for days, and they have names.  The other goats?  A bunch of dicks.  They won't let anyone come near them, they run about in a herd, and they just loll about the fields like self-righteous assholes.  So their human owners don't go near them and didn't even bother with names.  Because they're a bunch of dicks.

But the dick-goats are fairly attuned to the workings of the day.  They are let out of the barn in the morning time, and instinctively know when to head back to the barn in the evening.  Last weekend, that's exactly what they did.  However, when the goats went into the barn on Friday night, there were four of them.  In the morning, five came out.  Well, four and a half.

BABY GOAT.

And thus my story actually has a purpose!

We were invited over for dinner and were given the important responsibility of naming the baby goat.  We settled on Jasper.  Mike got into the pen and held him and I petted him, and the name just came to me. I don't know why.  Perhaps from a 30 Rock episode...

He looks just like his mom, who technically does have a name: White Face.

BABY GOAT OMG.

WHITE FACE AND JASPER OMG.

We were sent home with leftovers from dinner and about two dozen fresh farm eggs.  The next morning, I asked Mike, "Are you going to want to eat these eggs?"  His reply?

"I don't know.  I know the chickens.  So it's weird."

I totally get what he means.