Tag Archives: toys

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

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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.

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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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In honor of the Olympics.

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*Warning- this is really just a Dudley photo dump and has little (okay, absolutely nothing) to do with the Olympics*

I love to watch the Olympics, sometimes with Lord Dudley Mountcatten by my side. So with that in mind, I bring you…

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His Lordship’s favorite event is the feather ball toss.

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He practices daily.

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And is in gold medal contention for his bat it under the couch and then howl until the human recovers it routine.

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If looks could kill?

Ouch.

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Nice squashing form!

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No, I’m not through taking pictures yet.

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Caught in mid swipe…

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Time outs must be taken for fly hunting.

And then?

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A nap on the ball.

Athletes be tired.

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Worst. Dog. Toy. Ever.

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In fairness to my dog loving readers who must cringe at the plethora of cat posts on my page … here’s one for you.

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Wondering what your next birthday or Christmas gift to Fido should be?

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Mr. Poops. Because you can never go wrong with a morose black turd.

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No need to thank me. The thought of Mr. Poop happily squeaking his way through your house is all the gratitude I need.

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A new toy.

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The husband came home with a new toy last weekend.

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And before I knew it or could grab a good before picture…

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He’d trimmed an unruly hedge.

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And moved on to the next.

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These bushes can get out of hand quickly, and I trim them every fall. The husband always gave me Hell for bringing the trimmer in the office and cutting from an open window, but it was the only way I could reach. He ranted about how dangerous it was, how much of a mess it made…. and for years on end told me it wasn’t necessary.

You know where I’m going with this right?

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Yes.

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Once again I was proved right.

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And trimming through the open office window commenced.

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But the shrubbery was nicely shaped so I didn’t rub it in.

Well, not much.

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Random tidbits

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Read the following listing carefully.

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Possibilities of seasonal views. Which means – From your heavily wooded lot, in the dead of winter when all the trees are bare, if you stand on the edge of your bathroom sink and crane your neck to the north? You might see a tiny section of ice covered pond water.

Technically they’re not lying, but still.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten loves his toys. He loves them so much he shreds an average of one a week.

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It’s a veritable catnip mouse slaughterhouse around here.

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That sums it up nicely.

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Do I need that?

Now that you mention it… I might.

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This sounds like the perfect summer cocktail.

Cheers!

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I told you I would.

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Because no man cave bar is complete without one.

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Yes, I bought the screaming goat.

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And as thrilling as that was, I admit to being a tad disappointed in his miniature stature.

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Here, let me save you the trouble.

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Annoying friends is a super power I already possess, but whatever.

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Ten reasons? I bought a screaming goat! Why wouldn’t I press the button.

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Alrighty then. Behold the majesty….

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Admit it, you’re jealous and want one of your very own. But wait, there’s more.

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So tell me, is anyone interested in taking the goat quiz?

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Random drivel and Dudley.

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Glazed donut popcorn! A day late and a donut short, that’s me.

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As you know, Lord Dudley Mountcatten likes to look out the laundry room window. And since his Royal personage (catonage?) must be kept comfortable at all times….

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His human slave has attached a soft towel to cushion the Royal butt.

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That looks says he would have preferred velvet.

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No reason for that, it just made me laugh.

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Lost guinea hens are making the local news.

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Polite guinea hens apparently.

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I include this because it is a running bone of contention in Casa River. I never answer the phone if I don’t recognize the number. Ever! The husband on the other hand, can’t stand the thought of missing something important… you know, like car warranty extensions or Rachel from Card Holder Services. I repeatedly tell him the more he answers, the more junk calls we’ll receive but he never believes me. Hence the photo of the number one thing you should do to avoid phone spam.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten has a new octopus toy, which his mother put on his head in a feeble attempt to take his picture with a hat.

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His Lordship was not amused.

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Don’t touch my weed.

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I think we’ve established Lord Dudley Mountcatten is fan of the chronic.

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He spends many happy hours face down in his kitty cope sack.

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And I spend many joint creaking hours picking it up off the floor after he flings it with intoxicated feline abandon.

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Stoned? Probably.

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But woe to the person who tries to come between the Lord and his herb.

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His Lordship is not above shredding skin to keep possession.

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