Tag Archives: toys

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Things that made me look twice.

18 Comments

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It’s not every day you see a sleeping opossum hugging a crocheted opossum while wearing Crocs, but here you are.

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I remember having Barbie Dolls when I was a child. I never really liked them but people always gifted them to me because, ya know.. girl toy.

Back in my day there weren’t many varieties of Barbie, maybe Malibu… and that seemed exotic at the time. Now? There are hundreds.

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Damn. That sure beats a suntan.

And lest you think these versions are cheap, Barbie with psychotic birds will set you back $399…. which I thought was outrageous until I saw this –

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Yikes!

The title of this next photograph I took when we went out to lunch the other day should be Are we doing this now?

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How about you just pay your kitchen staff a decent wage and not expect the customers to pay extra to keep them happy?

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News you can’t use.

23 Comments

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All the news that’s not fit to print… but you know I will anyway.

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Sorry, if I had to see it… so do you.

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Gee, no. I can’t imagine that happening. You mean a programmed robotic fiancé who agrees with everything you say and finds your belching the National anthem charming isn’t realistic?

Who knew.

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Can you imagine living next to that Pepto Bismol monstrosity? I’d vomit on principle alone.

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Here’s a simple way… don’t buy them.

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For a society that always screams about invasion of privacy we’re pretty willing to hand over all our information.

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Be careful what you say in front of Teddy.

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Let’s play.

57 Comments

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You’re here.

What else are you gonna do?

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I entered my teenage years in the 1970’s and believe me, there were plenty of inexplicable things.

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Did we buy rocks we could just as easily have picked up in the backyard? Sure. But they came with fake hay and a nifty cardboard box. Who didn’t want that?

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Dr. Scholls. They were clunky, heavy, unattractive and you couldn’t wait to buy the next new color when it was released. You wore them, admit it.

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If you were a young girl in the ‘70’s? Your mother dressed you like this. I believe it is the reason many of us drink.

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This.

I wish I had a video of myself endlessly bopping around our backyard on what was then my favorite toy. This thing rocked! As well as bounced the living crap out of your internal organs. We had a slight hill on your property and let me tell you… 7 year old River airborne down a hill on a Hoppity Hop was a thing of beauty.

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Yes, also inexplicable was the 1970 desire to cover bathrooms in horrendous waves of thick, preferably shag, brightly hued carpeting. Mustard, olive green and turquoise were da bomb.

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While my parent’s home was filled with antiques and the occasional hint of Danish modern in the 70’s… aka the era of questionable taste…thankfully it didn’t include this particular “western” couch… but I can guarantee you knew someone who owned one and loved it. I knew many someones and sadly the couches were still in their homes in the 80’s.

Finally, no visit to the ‘70’s would be complete without this.

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Being chosen to run the overhead projector during class? That was the epitome of cool.

Your turn!

Please add to the list….

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So many toys, so little energy.

6 Comments

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More cute cat photos just because I can.

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As we’ve previously established Lord Dudley Mountcatten has a surplus of toys, most of which he doesn’t play with. But he does have a few favorites he flings around the living room.

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He runs up and down the halls, through the kitchen, around the den, bouncing out of the office and back across the furniture in a burst of frenzied energy…

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Until he runs out of steam.

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I feel you Dudley.

I really do.

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We call it ripping.

29 Comments

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Or rippin’ for short.

I’ve heard people call it the zoomies, but I can’t quite wrap my tongue around that.

Whatever the nomenclature, it’s when your pet goes spastic and starts tearing around the house like a whirling dervish. For Lord Dudley Mountcatten it happens every evening around 7:00. He starts to twitch, gets a wild look in his eye and he’s off. Sprinting across the living room, down the hall, bouncing off a wall to the second hall, up and over the bed, across the top of a chair, back down the halls, through the kitchen, ending under the dining room table with a toy.

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Last night it was the blue feathered whale and as you can see, he was having a grand old time.

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Wish I was that limber.

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I’m not sure why he has a fascination with furniture legs…

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But when he’s in rippin’ mode he always wraps around them to play.

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Cats.

They be crazy.

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And the poop keeps coming.

16 Comments

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Why is everyone so obsessed with poop these days?

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How bad do you have to be to find one of those in your Christmas stocking?

Yes, the classic emoji has its uses …

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But does it need to be flung in a mini slingshot? No. Even with the added incentive of 3 free flying feces.

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Thanks for clearing up the fake versus real controversy. Those outstretched arms and googly eyes might have come from Uncle Harold’s commode. He always was an odd duck.

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I’m going to go out on a limb and say English is not the ad copy writer’s first language. But hey… poop is universal.

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Random photo dump.

25 Comments

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A cat and his mouse is a beautiful thing.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten hasn’t caught a live one in quite a while but he does enjoy sleeping with his toy version.

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On a recent trip to the orthopedist I began wondering if he has voodoo doctor credentials.

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Crystal bones are made for throwing.

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Note to self…

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Buy bigger bird bath.

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Even he has no explanation for those ugly things…

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A little of this.. and a whole lot of nothing.

16 Comments

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This is an aerial shot of my little Maine town and I dare you to say it’s not a beautiful place to live.

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This is Lord Dudley Mountcatten and he’s a bit of a goober.

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He could tuck his tail beside him, or move farther down the window to accommodate its length…. but does he? No.

Because he’s a goober.

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Our neighbor and his two teenage boys came over last weekend and ended up at the man cave pool table. Poor kids, my husband and their father were both telling them how to play and they couldn’t have been more confused.

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Does Lord Dudley need a Princess Leia donut hairdo wig?

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The answer is no.

But his mother is seriously considering the Storm Trooper catnip mice….

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Because, come on… what’s not to love?

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Cosmopolitan Hell … part 2.

17 Comments

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Because this month’s issue was extra horrible and requires two posts.

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Sorry Cara, but I definitely don’t want to hear all about your sex toys.

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Golden penis syndrome. If nothing else? Receiving this gift subscription has made me aware how utterly out of touch I am.

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As if you men don’t think your wands have magic powers already. Geesh.

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Interesting demographic there. All in the south except one town in Massachusetts. Wonder why…?

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No, I didn’t tear that article out and I didn’t tuck it under my mattress. I did give brief thought to sending a copy to Monica Lewinsky… but alas, I think that ship has sailed.

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