Etc. and Stuff

Things have reached epic crazy-daisy proportions here at the ranch. We still have the dogs that we found on our porch and thanks to pellibaby's recent comment, we now call them "The Bumpus Hounds" and scream "Bumpussssesssss!" as they drag us around the yard. I'm not joking about the dragging part. Forget your stupid treadmills. Get yourself some Bumpus hounds. Or better yet, get mine. Anyone want to adopt the most gorgeous pair of dogs in human history? For your approval:



Oh my stars, those smiles! Seriously, if any of my local folks happen to know some amazing person or family who would be great for these guys, please let me know as they are scheduled to go to Nashville Humane tomorrow where they'll unfortunately be split up. And let me tell you, one of these guys without the other is like Johnny Carson with no Ed McMahon. A lot less laughs. 
Since we don't have a fenced yard, someone asked me why we don't take them to the dog park. That's simple. There are actual dog parents there who know what the heck they're doing. We'd be the biggest comedy troupe to ever hit that park. We'd have the parents and other dogs in stitches with the way that we get tangled in leashes and lose our shoes while the dogs walk us. We're cat parents masquerading as dog parents and we're about as evident as Miley Cyrus at the Video Music Awards. 

Yep. 

Did y'all watch it? Please tell me that you watched it. If not, go watch it. I'm pretty sure that Miley's tongue wants its own manager after that performance. The foam finger still hasn't made a comment to the media but reports are that it has gone into the witness protection program. As have the back-up dancers. And every teddy bear in the history of the world.   I never thought I'd say this but I want Hannah Montana back.  I haven't been so discouraged about our future  since I read that Kim Kardashian and Kanye West are trying to buy Graceland. Totally not joking. They are.

I have to admit that the Video Music Awards make me feel really old. I remember the good ole days with Prince in his ass-less pants. I don't even know who a lot of the performers are any more. What makes me old though? The fact that I don't even care. They interviewed some people on the red carpet pre-show last night that had me shouting at the TV like an old grandma "Who are you? Does anyone even know who you are???" I remember the very first Video Music Awards in 1984. That's how old I am. I remember Madonna when she was still a newbie, dressed like a slutty bride and slithering out of a giant wedding cake. 

I sound like a complete curmudgeon who thinks that the future is going to hell in a hand basket. Thank goodness for this link that Jamie shared last night on Facebook about the coolest, kindest ladies in the history of the world:

The Business Nine Women Kept A Secret For Decades 

That story had me crying like I'd slammed my hand in a door. We need more Nanas in the world. Those Nanas would have sent Miley to bed without any supper. Not even poundcake. 

Well folks, it's Monday and I'm rambling on like it's a Saturday. Time to start the week. I hope that you all have a great one! 

Until next time,

x's and o's,

Eartha