Beautiful Moments, Part Two
Last week I saw a helium balloon cross the road at the lights on a perfectly timed gust of wind. Today I saw four people trying to get into a GWiz electric car. They failed.
What's the best thing you've seen recently?
( , Thu 5 Aug 2010, 21:49)
Last week I saw a helium balloon cross the road at the lights on a perfectly timed gust of wind. Today I saw four people trying to get into a GWiz electric car. They failed.
What's the best thing you've seen recently?
( , Thu 5 Aug 2010, 21:49)
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Come on baby, don't fear the dachshund.
I don’t get to see my niece very often. She’s three years old and doesn’t even know that I’m her aunt. It isn’t the distance, lack of time or that toddlers are, like, totally passé which prevents me from seeing this beautiful child; it is that my sister-in-law is a psychotic.
I could draw from a bottomless well of examples, really, mostly based around assault and broad-spectrum sociopathic behaviour. But no, her abhorrent treatment of me and those around her isn’t enough to stop me from trying to form a relationship with my adorable niece.
It is that I have a dog, and dogs are disease-y. Apparently I’ll pass on wiener dog poo particles straight from the dog’s anus into my niece’s mouth, and no amount of anti-bacterial hand soap or not going elbow deep in the dog’s colon will prevent this. Yes, my dog ownership will kill my niece - or at least make her ‘simple’ and thus incapable of growing into a middle class Daily Mail reading adult. As long as I live with a dog, I won’t be able to see my niece outside of obligatory birthday parties.
And, so, in June, it was my niece’s third birthday party – the third time I had ever seen this child. My sister-in-law kept preventing me from playing with this sweet little girl, proclaiming how my hound ownership was akin to turd gobbling with Gary Glitter, as far as sick twisted behaviour goes. And so I sat, moopy, in the sandbox, with my new toddler best friend, James.
Then I heard the sweetest little voice behind me! It was my niece, she’d come over to play! I turned around and she was smeared in so much poop that I’m fairly certain that her friends had joined in on the fun.
It was a beautiful moment – me, the harbinger of canine anal kernels, delivering my shit crusted niece to my sister-in-law. I held her wee little poop-covered hand to make sure she didn’t wander astray into clean children or furniture.
My sister-in-law knew exactly what I was thinking, especially when I looked deep into her soul and asked to wash my hands. I hope the irony was not lost on her.
( , Mon 9 Aug 2010, 15:29, 3 replies)
I don’t get to see my niece very often. She’s three years old and doesn’t even know that I’m her aunt. It isn’t the distance, lack of time or that toddlers are, like, totally passé which prevents me from seeing this beautiful child; it is that my sister-in-law is a psychotic.
I could draw from a bottomless well of examples, really, mostly based around assault and broad-spectrum sociopathic behaviour. But no, her abhorrent treatment of me and those around her isn’t enough to stop me from trying to form a relationship with my adorable niece.
It is that I have a dog, and dogs are disease-y. Apparently I’ll pass on wiener dog poo particles straight from the dog’s anus into my niece’s mouth, and no amount of anti-bacterial hand soap or not going elbow deep in the dog’s colon will prevent this. Yes, my dog ownership will kill my niece - or at least make her ‘simple’ and thus incapable of growing into a middle class Daily Mail reading adult. As long as I live with a dog, I won’t be able to see my niece outside of obligatory birthday parties.
And, so, in June, it was my niece’s third birthday party – the third time I had ever seen this child. My sister-in-law kept preventing me from playing with this sweet little girl, proclaiming how my hound ownership was akin to turd gobbling with Gary Glitter, as far as sick twisted behaviour goes. And so I sat, moopy, in the sandbox, with my new toddler best friend, James.
Then I heard the sweetest little voice behind me! It was my niece, she’d come over to play! I turned around and she was smeared in so much poop that I’m fairly certain that her friends had joined in on the fun.
It was a beautiful moment – me, the harbinger of canine anal kernels, delivering my shit crusted niece to my sister-in-law. I held her wee little poop-covered hand to make sure she didn’t wander astray into clean children or furniture.
My sister-in-law knew exactly what I was thinking, especially when I looked deep into her soul and asked to wash my hands. I hope the irony was not lost on her.
( , Mon 9 Aug 2010, 15:29, 3 replies)
Brilliant!
you should have thrown just a little bit of poo in her face tho
( , Mon 9 Aug 2010, 15:44, closed)
you should have thrown just a little bit of poo in her face tho
( , Mon 9 Aug 2010, 15:44, closed)
I should have attempted to shove my hand down her neck...
...just to prove how difficult it would be for me to stick my fingers in my dog's brownie, as I have been accused of doing.
( , Mon 9 Aug 2010, 16:01, closed)
...just to prove how difficult it would be for me to stick my fingers in my dog's brownie, as I have been accused of doing.
( , Mon 9 Aug 2010, 16:01, closed)
Anybody who reads the Daily Mail
...should be prevented from reproducing. Thankfully, many psychological problems skip a generation, so your niece will probably be OK.
( , Mon 9 Aug 2010, 15:54, closed)
...should be prevented from reproducing. Thankfully, many psychological problems skip a generation, so your niece will probably be OK.
( , Mon 9 Aug 2010, 15:54, closed)
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