Sunday, June 10, 2012

Blog Casserole: Stella's Dental Adventure (Sorry, Suzanne)

As with any story that ends in an emergency hospital visit, it started out innocently enough. There we sat, Mother and I in our respective recliners, when I heard a concerned "oh, God, what happened, Stella?" When I inquired, I was told that Stella had hit her face on the coffee table, and that she may have lost a tooth. I looked on the floor, but the elusive little tooth wasn't there, so I figured she just swallowed it. Anybody with dogs knows, though, that it's never as easy as "they just swallowed it". When we pulled up her little lip to look, her tooth was sticking out the wrong side of her gum.
Call the Puppy Ambulance...

The waiting room was quiet, except for the radio propped up in a window sill, playing the dreaded country music one would expect from a rural vet (I prefer to call country music "farm emo", but that's just me). When the doctor eventually worked little Stellie in, she said she would have to remove the tooth. We handed over the little four pound wonder, terribly exaggerated images floating in our heads...

...when the radio cut to commercial.

"Have the killer smile you've always wanted! Dr. Schmuck has payment plans! He'll make your smile awesome. He'll make your teeth purdy. He's a doctor, so he can, you know, like, do that. People will love your fantastic teeth! Come see Dr. Schmuck for your fantabulous new smile today!"

All the while, I'm sitting there thinking of things like this...
Thanks, Dr. Schmuck.

Stellie is a trooper, though; she did it all without any anesthetic, to boot. Such a brave little girl.
We were instructed to give her a pain medication when we got home, as well as some gooey pink stuff; let's just say, we Anna Nichole'd her...

And, naturally, my mother asked to keep the tooth as a souvenir.

And now, it's time for another "He Really Looks Like..."
Reginald Kitty is not amused.

I don't know that we've talked about this particular period drama, but "The Duchess Of Duke Street" is one of my absolute favorites (side note/spoiler alert: even though there's half a season left to watch, I always stop the series when Louisa walks up the Bentink's staircase with the decorator after Charlie's death). So, when I saw this goat...
Photobucket instantly reminded me of Mr. Merriman...
It still isn't as funny as the Shep dog, though.

The other day, my dad brought home some left-over cookies from an office party earlier in the afternoon. Now, the secretaries in dad's office are some very sweet people, particularly the lady who made the cookies; but her cookies are hilarious compared to mine.
Look how dinky!
Hers on the left, mine on the right.

Mine on the left, hers on the right.

I thought it was quite a chuckle, truth be told. People always act shocked when they see my baked goods, and, after looking at a "normal" cookie, I can see why.
Really, though, I'm not insulting your cookies, Suzanne! Don't hate me!

Also, has anyone ever noticed that Vic Steele (the guitarist in the above video)...
...and Tom Higgenson...
...look remarkably alike? Consider this a "He Really Looks Like..." two-fer deal.

I have talked about my love of blogging statistics in the past, particularly the chuckles I get by keeping track of what people search to end up on this piece of the Webbyverse. For some reason or other, with the release of All Time Low's latest single (The Reckless And The Brave, go support some lovely lads between labels, enjoy the warm fuzzies self-empowerment songs can bring), there has been an upswing in related searches that are bringing folks here.

I screen capped it for the "gimp cats", the others were just a bonus to prove my point.

Now, I realize that, while most people were out forming social lives, I spent my time supersleuthing.
Some people may not know how to, and it's perfectly understandable why. If, however, you aren't any better at it than to end up here, you should probably practice this skill before a situation really depends on it (remember when I had to track down an AWOL teacher?).
I'll help you out this once, but, really, put some effort into your Internet stalking in future, OK? (Helpful Hint: to avoid scraping the bottom of the Google barrel, make sure you're searching for the proper things. For example, know who hit their head before you start Google-ing; I miss a funny search on my stats page, but you get what you're looking for.)

Here I am, fixing teeth/looking at goats/comparing cookies/explaining how to use the Internet, and a year ago today, I was here.

Did you spot the Ono Lennons?

Those aren't tears, it's just Paul in my eyes.

Also, what about that special Hofner for the Jubilee concert?

I. Love. It.

Is It A Subscription Box, Or Something More Sinister? (It's A Subscription Box. Maybe.)