anyone else have one of those Formative Omegle Experiences that’s stuck with you
i remember once matching up with this 27 year old mechanic. he found the omegle page open on one the shop’s computers, and he wanted to see what his coworker was up to. we matched up because of our listed “manga” interests.
he asked how old i was, and i lied and said i was 16. as a conversation starter, he asked if i had my license yet, and because i was 12, i said no.
so he starts giving me driving tips. get a junker as your first, because when you finally get a new car, you’ll be able to appreciate it.
stick shift is going out of fashion, and even if you learn how to drive that way and enjoy it, get an automatic. it’ll save your ass on nasty hills and in rush hour traffic.
and most importantly, never hold your hands at 10 and 2. go with 9 and 3. he’d always loved cars, and used to race when he was younger. became pretty well known in the indie circles. one day, he was speeding around the track and just came out of the curve when a girl in the crowd flashed her tits at him.
he was so distracted that he crashed straight into the barrier. due to how he was holding the wheel, he broke both of his arms. he still has a couple lingering issues.
i asked him if it was worth it, and he said yes. he’d do it again if he had the chance. they were the finest tiddies he’d ever seen.
the moral of this story is that, to this day, i grip 9 and 3 when using both hands because wait that’s what tiddy guy said i should do.
did I ever tell y’all about the time my dad’s friend got near-fatally stabbed by a deer
I worry that you may look at this and picture my dad’s friend being gored by a deer. you may think I am being slightly careless or hyperbolic with my word choice
oh no. no no no.
he got stabbed by a deer. with a knife. a deer used a knife to stab him and he almost died.
okay so
It is a fact of life in the time and location in Ohio where this story takes place that the deer population has no natural predators in the area. Regulated human hunting is necessary to keep the population to a healthy size.
And deer season opens in staggered brackets, right? Bowhunting opens first, to give people using bows and arrows a chance to get their shot in (no pun intended) before people with loud guns start scaring all the game away. Bore-loading rifles open next, works up to shotguns, etc. If you want to hunt deer with a machine gun you have to wait until everyone else has had their turn, basically.
So while my dad’s friend here does enjoy hunting for sport, he doesn’t need the meat the way some people do and as such he doesn’t feel right using guns; anyway, he likes the extra challenge of bowhunting, and it makes him feel better knowing that the deer have a sporting chance.
So he’s out there with a bow and arrow right when deer come into season.
Hits one. Clean shot, deer goes down, so the guy pulls out his hunting knife and walks up to this deer, which has just been shot and is by all rights already dead. He’s just doing the humane thing and checking to make sure so that he can give it a mercy stroke if it’s still clinging weakly to life.
This deer ain’t clinging weakly to shit.
So the poor man squats down next to its head, holding his hunting knife responsibly with the point facing down so that if he stumbles and falls he won’t impale himself. It’s what you’re supposed to do.
Dying deer looks him in the eye and has a split second in which it telepathically communicates:Fuck you.
Kicks out exactly one time.
Hits the knife perfectly and drives it into the guy’s thigh up to the hilt. And then dies.
Anyway there are some pretty fucking important veins and arteries in your thigh, which the deer’s Taking You With Me move thankfully missed. So this man who just wanted to give deer a fair fight ended up in the middle of the woods with a gushing thigh wound and almost bled out before he managed to get himself back to his car and very, very carefully make his way to the hospital.
(By all accounts he was very good-natured about the whole thing. Once he was no longer in immediate danger of dying he thought it was hilarious. In his own words, “It’s not like I can blame him, you know? I mean…that’s fair. That’s fair.”)
And that is the story of how my dad’s friend got stabbed by a righteously pissed-off deer.
sometimes i wonder why i chose a druid in d&d then realize i wear hippie thrifted clothes and walk around work with bees crawling around on my hand because i want to make sure they make it outside
this was today’s bee and i named her lady.
so i’ve been informed i’ve actually charmed a hornet.
that feel when you roll a crit fail in perception but a nat 20 in animal handling
This is Arwen, she’s a Husky/Kelpie mix and a little Asshole:
“I wonder if she can jump?” my dad asks the first five minutes we have her. She perks up at the word, and clears a six-foot fence form sitting on the ground. “Oh.” Says dad. “Shit.”
Later that night she got up on the counter and ate three pounds of corned beef in roughtly 68 seconds but this was considered part of the learning curve of having a new dog.
I wake up at 4 AM to the sound of the toilet being flushed repeatedly in the hall bathroom, and assume plumbing is now posessed by angry and wasteful ghosts. I get up to disconnet it and find her in the Bathroom, standing to flush the bowl, then shoving her head in to drink the running water. I’m not totally awake, so I stand there like an idiot trying to understand this, and my sister gets up to see what the noise is, sees the same thing and also stands there. Fiance notices my absence and does the same. Mom eventually wakes up and finds us standing around like very confused zombies and almost joins the parade of baffled zombies before shreiking “THE WATER BILL!” We got her a circulating water bowl after that.
My parent’s don’t have AC, but they haveone of those “fridge on top, pull-out-freezer below” fridges. Last summer, we were remarking that we might need to shave her so she didn’t get heatstroke, to which she looked up and made a disgusted noise at us. …Then got up, used the dishrag to pull open the freezer and climbed on top of the frozen vegetables, stretching out and sighing contentedly. “Arwen,” Mom began, but was interrupted by a loud ‘WHAAAaaaaarrr?” from Arwen. “Ok you can stay there for now but we’re getting you a kiddie pool so you have to get out when we get back. Don’t eat anything.” She ate a bag of frozen green beans and farted for three days straight.
Took her walking along the lake with the long lead so she could sniff things to her hearts content. She went about shoving her head in the undergrowth, usually coming up with her head covered in leaves and pollen.
Except for the bush where she came back out with a 7-foot Bull Snake wrapping itself around her ehad and neck, trying it’s best to strangle her before she can eat it. She immediately ran back to me, the parts of her face not occupied with the snake arranged in a gleeful expression of “Look! I found Snacks!”
I screamed, not immediately regognizing that it wasn’t a rattler, and fell, splitting my knee on a rock. The screaming made her let go of the snake, but I still had to grab her and wrestle the snake off her because it lacked the sense to just scuttle away. I finaly got it lose from her (Despite her best effort to continue trying to eat it and turned around to fling it off the trail-
-And directly into the face of one of my 90-year-old neighbors who’d come out to see what the screaming and profanity was, making her collapse.
I’m pretty sure being told “I accidentally threw a snake at my neighbor.” was the highlight of that EMT’s day. Dottie was unharmed but she still doesn’t speak to me.
One day, we left her in a Harness and overhead tether in the (at the time) unfanced back yard so she could enjoy some relatively free-range outdoors time. I walked by the window not a minute later to find her completely GONE, and race out to the yard to find her. It took me a good heart-pounding five minutes to realize the overhead tether was goign UP into the ancient silver maple and realized that 1. Arwen can apparently do something really weird with her shoulders where they pop out sideways, allowing her to bear-hug the tree and 2. climb a good 40 feet into the three to fight 3. A porcupine, which i didn’t even know LIVED out here.
Fortunately, Porcupines weigh considerably less than Awen and she couldn’t get a good enough foothold to get all the way up to it, but I still had to climb up there and lower her down, barking dog profanities at the porcupine the whole way.
My parents recently acquired a mechanized recliner which has been instumental inmom’s hip surgery recovery. Execpt that Awen Also likes lounging on the furniture, and is more than capable of hitting a large, elder-friendly button with her paw. So now when she gets back from a walk or the dog park she makes a beeline for the living room, get in the recliner and pushes the button until it’s flat and stretches out in it.
My parents didn’t have a problem with this because she gets out of the chair when they ask her (Mom even tells her “Go get my chair ready” in winter because she does a good job pre-warming it), until last winter when Arwen taught my dog Charlie, another devoted couch animal how to do this.
One afternoon there was a tremendous outburst fo barkign and snarling from the living room and we rished in to find both dogs in the recliner, Charlie on the fully-reclined back and Arwen on the elevated seat and foot rest, bellowing at eachother for control of the recliner, thier movments having pitched it back to it’s two hind feet, the device swaying to and fro like a leather covered boat upon the high seas, a furry mutiny on board. Neither dog was willing to yeild the plush throne, nor to listen to the humans yelling at them to knock it the hell off, until Arwen tackled the usurper, kocking him off and managing to cantaleiver the recliner clean over, flipping it into the hall, both dogs and all humand miraculously unharmed.
She still doesn’t let him sit in it.
I love her so much.
(If you got a laugh out of this, please consider donating to my Tip Jar or Paypal to get Arwen (and Charlie!) nice treats)
Evening reblog with an additional Shenanigan I just remembered:
One of the regulars at the dog park was an unfixed basset hound with an obnoxiously indifferent owner. “Brad” shows up pretty much to smoke weed and let “Bojangles” harass the other dogs, in spite of regular complaints about Bo starting fights and trying to mount every dog, leg, and toddler in sight.
One evening, Bo was particularly interested in Arwen, aggressively following her, nipping her heels and trying to mount her, even after her usual wolverine-like Snap’n’Snarl, which has tended to discourage unwanted suitors before. Brad was Too Damn High to notice, as usual, but mom knew that if Arwen actually bit Bo, Arwen would be the one in trouble and was trying to call her when Bo made yet another attempt and Arwen finally had it.
Instead of rightfully tearing his face off, Arwen instead did what Mom described as “A Judo-style front-flip” that pulled Bo clean off the ground and threw him on his back, Arwen landing on her feet like a cat. Bo’s stubby little legs didn’t allow him to right himself before Arwen jumped on him, front paws slamming into his saggy basset balls, squatted over his face, and peed on him.
“ARWEN NO!!” howled my mother as nearly everyone else present laughed, but having made her point, Arwen daintily got off Bo, and trotted to the gate, ready to go home. Bo yelped but got up and skulked away, only moderately bruised, cowering under the bench by Brad, who finally noticed something might be amiss.
Mom remembers hearing “Dude, why is my dog all wet?” right as they were leaving. Apparently nobody told him what happened, becuase Brad still brings Bo to the park, but Bo has much better manners now.
I read this whole thing to my mom and upon reading the end part she was like “OH MY GOD! Our dog Lady once flipped another dog and I didn’t know it was a thing dogs could do!!”
So there’s that.
Update: Arwen was at the vet’s office for a check-up and daycare, and decided partway through the afternoon that the other two kelpies were annoying her, but she didn’t want to go inside to be kenneled for a nap, so she instead…
…ninja’d her way onto the vet’s roof despite there being three people in the yard watching the dogs and no clear way up there. She had a pleasant hour of watching the vet staff try to figure out how she did that and how they were going to get her down before mom came to pick her up.
“Arwen, get your furry butt down here!”
At which point Arwen obidently got down by jumping into a nearby tree that’s technically inside a neighboring house’s yard, shimmied down that like a bear, then walked out of their side yard and back around the block to come sit at Mom’s feet, putting her paws up like she expected a treat.
That tree is not accessible from the daycare yard. We still have no idea how she got up there.
Shine on you beautiful bitch.
This just gets better and better every time i see it
I…
I have fostered doggos for a good majority of my life and my brain simply cannot process half of the bullshit in this post…
1. She’s a mix of two extremely smart breeds 2. She’s a mix of two extremely energetic breeds 3. The inmates trained her to do lots of “Extracirriculars” like veritcal leaps, how to climb chain-link fence, agility courses, physical-comedy type tricks becuase they finished teaching her the regular Service Dog Cirriculum and wanted to keep working with her. 4. Due to said Extrcirriculars, she doesn’t have any fear of heights, strangers, animals, or the nonsense of other dogs.
She does do the Professional Service Animal thing when we put her vest on, but then she’s working and has things to do like teaching social skills to people or being a living stress ball to someone having a bad time, so all that brains, energy and training can be put towards a productive end, but if she hasn’t got an active job, Shenanigans Ensue.
I love everything about this omg
Update:
She ate a four inch hole in the carpet because someone dropped a pork chop there. She’s completely fine, it all passed without so much as an upset stomach on her part.
-also ate the garden hose because we weren’t spraying her with it.
-conned one of the guys that installed the AC out of his sandwich by pretending to bark at something on the other side of the house, and doubling back when he came to investigate.
-is back on the therapy circuit helping kids in a summer school program get better at reading by having them read books to her. Her favorite student right now is a boy from Venezuela who is still learning English who gives her a big hug every morning. She doesn’t normally like hugs but she puts a paw on his back to hug him back.
was driving with my girlfriend and spotted a vulture with a broken wing standing on the side of the road. there was an animal hospital nearby with a wildlife unit so we pulled over and picked it up and drove it to tufts. i think its got a good chance at survival and it feels good to have been able to make the call and help an injured wild animal out
the funniest part of this was showing up at the Tufts emergency room with all these average folks with their dogs sitting politely on leashes in the waiting room and us being two very sweaty, disheveled haggy dykes who are bursting in and nearly running up to the desk holding a vulture in nothing but our bare hands and the look of extreme shock and horror on everybody’s face
Gay culture is bursting into an animal clinic looking to get medical treatment for a carrion bird
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