Today is supposed to be my overhead press day, but the day kicked off with some freezing rain and now it's snowing like mad, so I'm not sure that we will be driving to the gym tonight. Maybe I will have to lift the dog, but I worry that she would fear-pee on my head. I'm thinking we will either go to the pool with the small gym about a kilometer from my house or it will be bodyweight exercises in the living room with the added challenge of avoiding canine face snuffles while doing pushups.
Also, to allay any concerns, my dogs do not wear costumes, go trick-or-treating, or hang out outdoors unsupervised at any time, because I like my neighbors and prefer not to irritate them.
ďIf I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive.Ē --Audre Lorde
Lady Friend's ewes are incurable romantics. They want candy and flowers, to hold hooves at the seashore, to be escorted to Jennifer Aniston movies and to be titillated with naughty jokes that go just a little too far but no farther than that.
The last ram understood that, and so he was very popular among the ewes. Unfortunately, Lady Friend's new ram is a Business Man. He was brought on to do a job, and that job is all he intends to do. He hates Jennifer Aniston and doesn't believe in spending money on flowers that are going to die in a few days anyway. And so he approached them in a business fashion, not a gentlemanly one.
In addition to being incurable romantics, the kind who sigh at Zales commercials for Perfect Moment diamond rings and scream at the tousles in John Mayer's hair, Lady Friend's ewes are also Amazons. And they kicked the ever-loving sh*t out of Business Man this morning. They booted him from one end of the pasture to another in an orgy of violence at having their romantic passions thwarted in favor of his base instincts. I have no pictures for you. It was disturbing. We finally called everyone over and threw enormous heaps of hay over the fence in the hopes of distracting them. It appears to have worked temporarily, as the passions of sheep for food run even higher than rubbing the face of Business Man into the ground.
If any lambs result next March, it will be a miracle.
can i come help work there?
bouncy lambs and non-romantics getting beat up sound great
i don't mind being peed on
yeah you are
I used to think I was funny until I met Kathy Griffin. Iím gonna have to call my mama and have her tell me how good I am. - ginger minj
Domestic sheep are one of those animals that really truly wouldn't exist without human help (and subsequent human consumption).
Friends who own a farm up-island have sheep. One year, the ram failed spectacularly and NO lambs happened the next spring (in retrospect, the farmer now thinks it was because it was too cold to shear before mating season and there was too much fluff in the way). But at the time, the ram was viewed as a failure and a replacement was brought in. Unfortunately the failure ram was left there. When the new ram came in, he was all business too - but the first order of business was removing the competition. While wild sheep have experience and the neck and cranium to deal with it, domestic sheep, left with the instinct to back up then run as fast as possible at each other with their heads down, do not engage in ramming speed with much overall success. After one smash-up, the failure ram keeled over and then died a few days later of internal injuries.
I haven't yet heard if the replacement ram was able to capitalize on his masculine prowess and do his job or not. Regardless, sheep seem to have a lot of difficulty sorting themselves out and, unlike pigs, would doubtless go quickly extinct without human assistance. Which is why yes lambs are cute, but I have absolutely no problem eating them.
November 2nd: Inspirational Moments
I am willing to feel abundant.
RESOLVE: So true. Pandaís entire problem is the acceptance of abundance.
GAY PANDA: Go f*ck yourself, Resolve. I f*cking hate hippie affirmations. Iím not this way because I want to be this way, any more than when I was average-sized. That happened without effort or input or deliberation on my part.
DEBAUCHERY: I AM WILLING TO FEEL ABUNDANT!!! PUT ME IN CHARGE!!! I HUMBLY SUBMIT MY NAME FOR CONSIDERATION---
GAY PANDA/RESOLVE/REMORSE: NO.
GAY PANDA: I fought you all through that damn Whole Foods yesterday, and I won!
REMORSE: The crouton that fell into the salad from the bar, was that winning? The bag of dried mangoes, was that winning, too? Youíre like a dietary Charlie Sheen.
GAY PANDA: I said NO to crust-free mashed potatoes. Do you know what that did to me? THEY FINALLY HAD POTATOES WITHOUT A MILLIMETER OF CRUST AND I MADE LADY FRIEND ROLL THE CART PAST THEM. So donít be so snide, you horrible little fairy. I said no to whoopie pies and licorice sticks and chocolate bars and raspberries. I scooped up the crouton accidentally from the Caesar salad tub-
RESOLVE: And you ate it later.
GAY PANDA: Trying to be perfect leads to sad faces on feelings chart. I ate one crouton. So sue me. That doesnít make me the dietary Charlie Sheen, for Valhallaís sake!
DEBAUCHERY: ISNíT EVERYTHING BETTER WHEN IíM IN CHARGE??? PANDA, ABUNDANCE LEADS ONLY TO HAPPY FACES ON FEELINGS CHARTS!!! LETíS GO BACK TO WHOLE FOODS FOR WHOOPIE PIES AND YOUíLL SEE JUST HOW GREAT IT CAN BE!!!
GAY PANDA: Iím going to have to say no. I only listen to the fairy holding the Oscar, and you are not holding it.
RESOLVE: And donít bother trying to steal it, Debauchery. Itís stuck to my hand with industrial-strength glue.
All caught up...
This page was my first stop of course.
ďYou have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.Ē
And that's why I'm here eating HFLC Primal/Paleo.