we do have another dog in the house, though i don’t speak of him often. it’s not because he’s not important or that we don’t love him. it’s just because he’s new to the household. or fairly new as the case may be. so we don’t have as many stories built up in the old brain box for him yet. he was a part of the package when matt moved in a year ago. his name is rufus. see here:
he does that a lot. he just sits and stares at you. for long, long periods of time. i wonder what he’s thinking about. sometimes i think he’s thinking,
“ah, there she is. my great and benevolent new mistress. she’s so beautiful and kind. she’s gentle and sweet with tender hands that scratch me just so behind my ears. i like the way she fills my bowl every morning and always makes sure i have clean, fresh water. sometimes she’ll even give me some canned food. matt never does that. she also gives me treats. more often than matt. he thinks i’m too fat and lazy. oh the heartache. but she doesn’t care. she likes me just the way i am. she risks his wrath just to give me a a doggie biscuit. ah, i love her so.”
that’s what i’d like to think he’s thinking when he sits and stares at me for literally hours at a time like that.
but this is probably more accurate:
“i hate you. you harlot. you unfeeling bitch. you home wrecker. i had matt all to myself before you came along. it was just the two of us and did we need you? no! we were doing just fine. then you sauntered in with your fancy dinner making and made him think he couldn’t live off of ramen noodles and dr. pepper aloneforever and ensnared him in your web of deceit. you and your laundry cleaning and your wily womanly charms. now i have to share him. he hardly ever has time for me anymore. guess what i’m doing? right now? i’m planning your death. i’m plotting your demise. and it won’t be pretty either. you won’t die quickly. you won’t go easy. i’ll make sure you die slowly and painfully, begging for mercy the way you make me beg for those crappy dog biscuits you seem to think i enjoy so much. oh yes. there will be bloodshed. you won’t know when and you won’t know how, but it will come. it will come.
or, you know, maybe he’s just thinking, “cookie?”
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A Woman's Manifesto
Because a woman’s work is never done.
and is underpaid, or unpaid, or boring, or repetitious,
and we’re the first to get fired,
and what we look like is more important than what we do.
And if we get raped its our fault
and if we get beaten we must have provoked it
and if we raise our voices we’re nagging bitches
and if we enjoy sex we’re nymphos
and if we don’t we’re frigid
and if we love women it’s because we can’t get a real man
and if we ask our doctor too many questions we’re neurotic or pushy
and if we expect childcare we’re selfish
and if we stand up for our rights we’re aggressive and un-feminine
and if we don’t we’re typical weak females
and if we want to get married we’re out to trap a man
and if we don’t we’re unnatural
and because we still can’t get an adequate, safe contraceptive, but men can walk on the moon
and if we can’t cope or don’t want a pregnancy we’re made to feel guilty about abortion
and for lots and lots of other reasons
we are part of the women’s liberation movement.- Joyce Stevens, International Woman’s Day, 1975.
Man Vs. Heart Attack
I am somewhat worried about the dude on Man v Food. He isn’t looking so good these days and putting that food away like that can’t be good for him.
Perhaps he’s just sitting.
He is lovely.