I Don't Think We're Talking The Same Thing

(Warning Crass)

Ian: Did you find it?

Me: No I got busy doing my course.

Ian: What course?

Me: A course I'm taking on-line

Ian: On what?

Me: Canine Reproduction

Ian: Dog fucking! I have a whole bunch of guys at work who can teach you all about dog fucking.

 

God this man makes me giggle!

 

 

Doggy Style or if you prefer Ian's School of Sex Ed

My girl Ripley aka Ripples is in day 5 of her season. As I wanted to determine if it was time Ripples should go visit her "date" and to find out how my young male Quinn would deal with an in season female I figured I would bring them together in a controlled meeting to judge their responses. Ripples, the experienced girl that she is was all over him... well, like a bitch in heat. Quinn on the other hand wasn't sure just what he was supposed to do with this whirlwind of teasing, flaunting femininity. I remained quiet and ready to whisk them apart all the while letting Ripley do her thing but Quinn as excited as he was, still kept coming back to me for reassurance. He totally failed to get the complete picture that she was so expressively painting for him. 

 Later that evening as Ian and I were sitting around, I expressed my worry that when the time comes Quinn would either be totally clueless or too submissive around bitches in season. Neither of which is a good thing in a prospective stud dog. Ian of course felt I was worried about nothing as Quinn just needed to actually be "taught" what to do.

Now despite the many years of my breeding dogs Ian prefers to be a hands off kind of guy when it comes to the actual breeding and birthing of the puppies. He really has very little knowledge on how dogs actually do it, I know this as a fact because (1) he is constantly tell me he "don't know nothing 'bout birthing no puppies" and (2) in the not so distance past, Ian once walked in during a mating where the dogs had "tied" and exclaimed "They're doing it wrong! They're backwards!" OK, that being said, Ian is right in the fact that there have been times when a breeder needs to help an inexperienced male but the dog generally has a natural instinct that gives us something to work with.

Knowing Ian's lack of experience in doggy sex and never one to pass up the opportunity to tease him I decided to be a smart arse and ask ....

OK Ian, what do you mean taught, If not by instinct how exactly were you "taught" to do it?

 Ian's too quick response....
 Porno movies, magazines, back alleys.

BACK ALLEYS!!!! Alrighty then, add to that a story he once told me about a park bench, I now firmly believe Ian knows a lot more about dogs and bitches in heat then I first thought.

Feeling like I need a shower and some penicillin right about now.

Crucifixion Doesn't Alway Mean Saintly

Ian tried to crucify himself last weekend. Despite what others may believe he really is not that saintly, as I proved here. What he was on this occasion was stupid, careless and foolhardy. OK, that may sound too harsh but when using an air powered nail gun you do not stand on the wrong side of what you are nailing resulting in your pointing the gun towards yourself! (Warning: A 3 & 3/4 inch air powered nail will shoot all the way through 1 inch plywood and halfway through you finger like a knife through butter) (Are you done cringing yet?) Although not impressed with his failure to think safety first I was extremely impressed that he didn't punch his buddy Scott when he grabbed Ian's hand and yanked the almost 4 inch nail out. When I think about it though, Ian who is generally mild mannered except when he hurts himself, is not a very large man and Scott, while we may call him Scottie, is by no means a small man by any stretch of the imagination so perhaps extremely impressed should be down graded to rather grateful. It probably helped that Ian was lucid enough to ask to be given a moment to collect himself and that everyone else wisely took 5 steps back. What didn't help was that despite all of us owning First-aid kits they of course were no where to be found either being back at the car, or at home, or at the other camp sites. Proof again that MacGyver I am not despite what some people like to say. What also didn't help was Ian could not remember when he had his last tetanus shot but I ask you who ever can remember if it wasn't within the last year? All in all it could have been worse then 5 hours sitting in the hospital ER, a tetanus shot and a very colorful finger but I bet next weekend all of us will have our first aid kits prepped and ready.


P.S: I'm allergic to 5 hour hospital emergency rooms waits and dirt borne diseases that makes you shake violently enough to snap bones so I have an appointment booked for my tetanus shot in two weeks.


P.S.S: Since it would have been unseemly for me to be snapping photo's of Ian "bleeding out" there are no before and after pic's so I had to make do with a really bad drawing.

Unsuspecting accident waiting to happen

OH my little retarded buddy, did you get a boo boo?

So I ask you.... Saint or Passive Aggressive?

Ian is a saint, or so everyone keeps telling me, our friends, his friends, my mom (traitor), everyone. I even agree with them sometimes cause really he does put up with me. I know, it's hard to believe I'm not perfect. It's true, not everyone could put up with me, I am a tad overbearing, just slightly judgmental and a little bit of a know it all opinionated. I admit a few hours spent arguing with and getting my fathers goat over the kitchen table is a favorite past time of mine but what can I say I love me and so does he. But is he a Saint? Yes Ian gets up with the dogs on the weekend to let me sleep in if I wish ....or is it so he has an extra hour or two to himself?. Yes, he rarely argues with me and lets me have my way on most things just to keep me happy ....or is it just to keep me quiet and out of the little of what's left of his hair? Yes, Ian does the majority of cooking around here but come on, I know that's just because he wants to eat! Ok yes he's pretty good, I can't deny it but a Saint? You tell me.

Scene- 3 PM Call to Ian's cell phone.

Me: Brrrrrrrrrrr

Ian before me: Note- Hair lots, Hair black, Smile on face.

Ian: I'm on my way home I'm planning on cleaning the chimney when I get there.

Scene- Ian gets in the door.

Me: Brrrrrrrrrrr
Ian: I'm on it, I'm on it.

Scene- Ian on the roof.

Me: I got 9.1 dialed on the phone
Ian: Could you hold the bottom of the ladder?
Me: Ok but are sure you just don't want me to keep my finger over the last 1, cause you don't really expect me to catch you if you fall do you?
Ian: Hold the ladder women!

Scene- Ian off the roof and getting ready to shower.

Me: Brrrrrrrrrr
Ian: Silence

Scene- Ian eating his supper.

Ian after me: Note- Very little hair, Completely grey,
No room left on the couch

Me: Brrrrrrrrrr didn't you start a fire?
Ian: No, you didn't really want me to start a fire did you? It's supposed to warm up and we'll just bake all night and not get any sleep.
Me: Brrrrrrrrr

Scene- Later that night ,Ian returns from the basement.

Me: Hey, what were you doing down there?
Ian: I just started a fire.
Me: Bites tongue, contorts face
Ian: What! You wanted a fire!!!!
Me: Yes but that was hours ago, now the house will just heat up in time for bed and we're gonna bake all night.
Me: Ian are you alright? Your face looks a little red.

So I ask you.... Saint or Passive Aggressive?

Insomnia = Justifiable Homicide?

Justifiable Homicide? some times late at night I think...

I'll take my chances if the judge is a woman!

There once was a tired man from Trout Creek,

whose snoring was making his girl freak.

She plotted and planned,

where his body would land.

He's toast once she's perfected her technique.

There once was a man and his dog,

who found themselves in tonight's blog.
With my trying to sleep,
both their snoring did compete.
Sure wish I could quiet that man and his dog.

There once was a woman in love,

with the man she once dreamed of.
But the sound of his snore,
she could take no more.
Oh the torture that woman did conceive of.

There once was a man who was kicked to the floor.

cause he woke the whole house with his very loud snore.
He begged and he pleaded,
and claimed he was needed.
Oh, that man better know of a good jewelry store.