The Recital

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy watching my children perform what they've learned so far in music class. In fact, I enjoy it a whole lot.

But those recitals... They kill me. Call me a terrible person; I don't care. It's a few short moments of hilarity mixed in with a seemingly endless parade of (terrible) performances by children I don't know. It's a chore to stay awake, let alone appear interested. And from looking around, I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who tends to feel that way.

We had one a couple nights ago. Natasha's recorder class performed at 5:30, and Zach's orchestra (he's on the Baritone) performed at 7:00. We had to sit there the entire time in between.

Those instruments. It's been two days, and my ears are still crying.

They try. Bless them, they try. And they're all new and excited to perform, and it's important to get a taste of performing for a crowd. I acknowledge that. But, come on. I'm still not sure how they did it, but they managed to turn one of the happiest, most upbeat songs in history into an elegy for the damned. Check it out:

I imagine if you're marched through the gates of hell on Christmas Day, this is what Satan's Orchestra plays for you as you're herded into the flaying chamber.

(I filmed this using a crappy digital camera. It's shaking so bad because I was doing my best not to fall out of my chair.)

To be a fair, a couple kids got up and performed some solos that were amazing for their age. And when they all sing together, they're not half bad.

I guess it's a rite of passage... first as a child and later again when you're an adult. Sort of like a never-ending circle of Christmas karma.

Though the evening wasn't completely without some serious entertainment... For all those Bill O'Reilly "War on Christmas" fans, I have a treat for you! The evening closer was a bastardized, politically-correct version of the classic, "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" that was worth the price of admission alone for the looks on the faces of some of the older, grumpier audience members:

On Super Busy-Ness, Being Outsourced, Strawberrys, and Hairy Vulvas.

Let's ketchup.

It's been a couple months. Well, almost three I guess. It's funny how much things can change in such a short amount of time.

As of tomorrow night, the newspaper is history. My department has ceased to exist. The industry as a whole is dying a long, painful death, and it's probably good I'm out now.

Thankfully I have a new job, and it seems like it's something I'll enjoy. I'm in the jewelry business now. Any day now I'll come home with a pinky ring and an accent. I'll post more about that later.

I've also been doing a bit of selling on eBay. That's a couple posts on its own.

I'm probably about 15-20 lbs lighter than I was the last time I posted, too. I'll post naked pictures for the ladies (and that one guy with the pink shirt who sometimes comments) if there's enough of interest.

Halloween was fun. Zach was the Grim Reaper, Gnat was Hannah Montana, Lili was Tinkerbell, and Laney was a very pleasant and cheerful Strawberry:

The good thing is it seems my level of sheer, utter super-busy-ness is starting to wane, and the ol' Fireflies in the Cloud won't be as neglected as she's been.

But enough about me. What I really want to talk about tonight is purses.

I'm thinking about getting this for Meredyth:

She recently got a new purse, but I don't like it too much. Quite frankly, once you see a purse named The Velvet Vulva, every other single purse you see from that moment forward is pretty much not the Velvet Vulva, and therefore teh suck.

That is all. I'll see you guys tomorrow.

Simpsonize me

Sorry about the lack of updates. I've been mondo busy.

But I haven't been too busy not to Simpsonize myself:

"Who's your daddy?".............

That's what it thinks I look like. It's a spitting image.

Deadpool Update

My current deadpool ends on July 31st, and I have one week left to go. Here are my standings so far thanks to a late exit by one Ladybird Johnson:

1 Bruce Bennett Played Tarzan in 1930s movie serials DEAD
2 Jimmy Carter 39th US President, 1977-81
3 Fidel Castro President-for-Life of Cuba
4 Gerald Ford DEAD
5 Milton Friedman 1976 Nobel Prize for Economics DEAD
6 Billy Graham Televangelist
7 Paul Harvey Folksy radio quasi-journalist
8 Lady Bird Johnson Wife of US President Lyndon Baines Johnson DEAD
9 Jack Kevorkian Euthanasia enthusiast
10 Ariel Sharon Prime Minister of Israel

I gotta tell you, I'm a bit disappointed in my results. I figured I had both Fidel and Sharon in the bag. A score of 6 would've put me in the top, but it looks like it's not going to happen this year. Oh well.

I'm totally putting Lindsay Lohan on my list for next year.

10 stupid things I really want to do, but would probably kill me

10. Go ghost hunting

I don't believe in ghosts, but I love those ghost-hunting shows they have all over TV. I think it would be pretty cool to spend the night in one of those supposedly haunted buildings running around with quasi-scientific equipment and getting all scared because a cat runs by.

Plus Meredyth likes that stuff, too, and it would get her hot.

probability of severe pain: 1%
probability of death: .05%

9. Learn how to rock climb

This is one of those things I want to do every time I see it on tv or in a magazine, and I get all jazzed up about the idea of going to the rock climbing place we have here in Tucson, which is fairly inexpensive.

But then I just don't do it.

But rock climbing in a gym isn't really what I want to try. I just want to do that to, err, learn the ropes. I really want to eventually try rock climbing out in the real world. You know, so I can screw up and get splattered all over the base of the cliff.

at the gym:
probability of severe pain: 10%
probability of death: 2%

out in the wild:
probability of severe pain: 50%
probability of death: 63%

8. Box

I think most guys have at one time or another put on boxing gloves and beaten crap out of one of their friends. But I'd really like to spend some time at a gym, learning how to hit a speed bag and spending some time in a real ring.

Unfortunately I doubt I'd be very good at it. Even though I'm a very-slightly-above-average 6' tall, I have these short little chicken arms, so I'd have to get real close before I'd be able to land a blow. I'd probably get my ass kicked even by Glass Joe.

probability of severe pain: 98%
probability of death: 20%

7. Blow something up.

Finishing out the Sylvester Stallone trifecta.

(down, Homeland Security. In a controlled, legal environment I mean.)

One of these days I'll make a blog post about all the things I've exploded when I was a kid, but there's only so much explosion one can get out of the stuff you buy at a Virginia fireworks stand.

I once knew a guy whose job was controlled demolitions at a mine. It was 99% planning and math and boring physics stuff and only 1% turning a key and destroying a couple acres of nature with a spectacular explosion that you can hear in the next county. I just want to be there for that 1% part. I want to turn the key. Maybe one of these days I can turn the key to blow up a Las Vegas hotel to make room for a new one.

Wouldn't that be awesome?

probability of severe pain: 5%
probability of death: 5%

6. BASE Jumping

I've bungee jumped, and I've gone sky diving, but I've never just run off of a cliff before.

BASE stands for Building, Antennae, Span, and Earth. Building is obvious, Antennae is something like a radio tower, Span means things like bridges, and Earth is things like cliffs and mountains. Once you've jumped off of all four you can apply for and get a BASE number. Those numbers are given sequentially, and they're currently at 1200 or so right now. So if I jumped off of all four of the BASE objects, I could be BASE-1210.

It should probably be noted that of the 1,200 people with BASE numbers, 111 of them have gone splat and died.


probability of severe pain: 50%
probability of death: 70%

5. Hang glide

I'll probably never do this because a) it's expensive as hell and b) I'll be dead from trying 10-6 first, but like base jumping, there's something alluring about it. Honestly I don't really know too much about the sport, though I once had a dream where I was hang gliding. I sneezed, and I plummeted to the earth. I was also holding Sugar Pie (Anna Nicole Smith's dog) at the time.

probability of severe pain: 40%
probability of death: 85%

4. Meet Chuck Norris

Who wouldn't want to meet Chuck Norris? This one is self-explanatory.

probability of severe pain: 98%
probability of death: 90%

3. Run with the bulls

Yes, it's ridiculously idiotic. Yes, it's terrible and cruel to the bulls (who get slaughtered in the bull fighting arena afterwards). But I've always wanted to do this. And since I've spent my entire life eating hamburgers and steak-ums and meatball Hot Pockets, I figure they should get a fair shake at evening the score.

Besides, I've always wanted an excuse to wear an ascot.

probability of severe pain: 75%
probability of death: 75%

2. Shark Diving in South Africa

I've always wanted to visit South Africa. I've always wanted to go scuba diving. I've always wanted to be put in a cage, submerged in water, and circled by creatures who wanted nothing more than to eat me. This is a marriage made in heaven.

probability of severe pain: 75%
probability of death: 75%

1. Run a marathon

Of all the things listed on here, this is probably the scariest for a couple reasons. For most of this list, the experience itself is the pay off. For running a marathon, it's all about being able to get to the finish line and being able to tell people for the rest of your life, I ran a marathon. Of all the things on this list, it's also what I want to do the most.

Unfortunately, I am no where near the conditioning required to run a marathon. In my current condition I can run three miles at a moderate/slow jog and survive (barely.)

probability of severe pain: 100%
probability of death: 20%

Well, that's my list.
How about you?

My shoes are racist, and my water is toxic

This world sucks. It's scary, horrible, and painful death lurks around every corner. Look at some of these dangers we face on this disgusting, vile planet:

• Milk sold by Wal-Mart contains a terribly dangerous growth hormone that will eventually kill you and your babies.
  
  
• We just learned reusing water bottles breaks down the plastic and poisons us, giving us stomach cancer.
  
  
• Drug dealers are traveling with dead babies, hollowed out and filled with drugs.

• A kid recently jumped into a ball pit at a McDonalds and pricked himself with a needle containing a hit of heroin. Now he has AIDS and bad teeth.
  
  
• Random gangs are luring children into washrooms and cutting off their penises!
  
  
• The beloved Colonel Sanders actually left a chunk of his inheritance to the KKK.
  
  
• A babysitter watching an infant for a vacationing family died of a drug overdose, and the family came home to find the baby still strapped to the high chair, dead.

• In some restaurants in Taiwan one can order roast fetus.
  
  
• Car mechanics are copying house keys when people leave their cars to be serviced and sneaking into houses at night and raping everyone in sight.
  
  
• And to top it off, I just found out the Vans shoes I wear have several symbolic Stars of David on them, so every time I take a step, I'm inadvertently "stomping out Jews."

My racist shoe.

Panic! Panic! Panic! Everything you read on the internet is true!

To somebody, at least.

This whole let's-forward-bad-information-because-it's-super-important thing is still an epidemic, and it's starting to irritate me.

I don't really care too much about the funny ones (like the Darwin awards or the Stella awards, which I think are awesome.) It's the ones that are so obviously false, but still cause panic because people have this better-safe-than-sorry attitude.

I know I've mentioned Snopes.com before, and I'm going to mention it again. Every single time someone forwards you an email that says something like zomg Barack Obama is Bin Laden'z god son!!!1!!eleventy! head on over to Snopes, and paste a sentence or two from the email into the search bar. Odds are if you've gotten that email, several people have and there's already an entry. In most cases, you might be surprised at how old that email really is, too.

Now I just need to forward this post to my mother.

(On a similar note, for consumer-based scams and hoaxes--get a free Xbox for clicking this link! sort of stuff--check out ScamBusters.)

I am a corporate whore

A while back, I got an email from a marketing guy over at Sony who said he liked my blog. He asked if he could put me on the list to get promo material from Sony artists. I said sure, and I promptly forgot about it.

Several months passed, and suddenly I get this in the mail, addressed to "Fireflies in the Cloud":

That's T-Pain's new album, Epiphany.

I had never heard of T-Pain before, probably because I get most of my new music from recommendations from people whose music taste I share. Not too many Dream Theater fans are also into this rap/R&B stuff.

Anyway, I figured since they went through all the trouble of sending me this CD, I might as well listen to it and post my opinion. Remember, though, I'm a 30-something white guy from Tucson, Arizona whose only real exposure to rap is when Dora the Explorer is over and the Noggin channel switches to adult shows for the day, and the intro to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air comes on.

So my opinion: it sucks. First off, T-pain can't decide if he's a rap artist or an R&B artist, and the album jitters back and forth, unable to settle on a pure style. His voice always has a vocoder on it, which makes me suspect he's not the greatest singer. The musicianship and mixing of the album is top notch, but it's all style and no substance. The lyrics are hilarious because they're said with such sincerity:

From the song Put it down:

Baby give me a reason so I can touch it how I want to
And make love to you how them other lame niggaz want to
Gone girl what you gone do
On my nappy head you can pull with my nappy dreads if you want to
Shawty I'ma put it on you
And make you think that you the girl I was singing all my songs to
You got me thinking me and you went to drinking and sippin on that patron we done been got it on boo
But for now we just sit and chill
You never had love making like this for real
Come on baby its just appeal
Now take it slow and let me take it down low
Lets go lets go
So you know its about to go down now
Speed it up baby cant slow down now
Tell ya closet freak she can come out now
Why you think they call me teddy penderassdown

[Chorus]
And now I know you didn't expect me to go low
Now you know
From the top to bottom and now that I got you
I'ma stick, stick, stick, stick, sting, ooh [x2]
And now I know you didn't expect me to just turn you round spread it out and put it down
From the top to the bottom and now that I got you
I'ma stick, stick, stick, stick, sting, ooh [x2]

The next day, I got another album, this time from someone I'd actually heard of.

Double Up by R. Kelly. I actually like this album quite a bit better. Mr. Kelly is looking very thug-ish on the cover. Pretty much all the lyrics are about banging various women:

From "Sex Planet":

Jupiter
Pluto
Venus and Saturn
I'm leaving Earth girl to explore your galaxy
Ten to zero
Blast off here we go
We'll be climax until we reach Mercury
Girl, Tell me are you ready girl
To take a trip out of this world
I guarantee you'll like it
It'll take your breath away
Gonna get you so excited
Once I've tasted your milky way
Girl spend the night come take a flight with me
Out into space

From "Double Up":

Pimpin don’t stop when I walk up in the club
See a girl with a girl and try and get a group hug
Get em’ to the hotel
Get some group love
Her (her) me man I just can’t get enough
All up in my tub
Steady poppin bub
Who is she to you and she replied “First cuz”
Man I could tell they so naughty, naughty
The way they took me down like a forty, forty
One in the bed and one in the chair
One massage my toes while one braid my hair

The whole album is pretty inspiring. When I get home tonight I'm going to try to talk Meredyth into doubling up with a bitch from the club. She can massage my toes while the other braids my hair.

Ma'am, you have some muscle

So I've been working out a lot lately. My new work schedule makes it difficult for me to post a whole lot in this blog, but it's great for going to the gym. Look at these before and after pictures of me, just from the past two months:

Me before:



Me today:



I look like a totally different person. It's amazing.

Anyway, I was looking up some lifting techniques online, and I came across a picture of a female body builder. I always feel kind of weird when I look at images of chicks who are like this. A small part of me is impressed at their insane dedication, but only a small part. The rest of me wants to vomit my lungs all over the keyboard. Still, it's a trip to look at, and if they're happy with themselves, then I'm perfectly happy posting images of them all over the net.

Here's a gallery of freakishly large women. And, yes, these are all really women. Click for larger versions:

My favorite web comic

The Perry Bible Fellowship as drawn by Nicholas Gurewitch is the funniest web comic in the history of web comics. Here are just some of my favorites. (Click to make them bigger.)

I mention this because whenever I'm having difficulty thinking of what to do, in writing or life or when I'm in the drive-thru at Jack-in-the-Box, I like to recall things like this to my memory--artists who take something and not only think outside of the box, but take the box itself and throw it away. And then I try to remember to avoid using cheesy cliches.

Plus he sometimes puts cartoon boobies in the comics, and that's awesome.

Got crabs?

When I was in the first grade, we lived in Rhode Island. I have this vague memory of the beach being invaded by jellyfish. Everywhere you looked, jellyfish had taken over every square inch of water.

That's nothing compared to this:



This is on Christmas Island, which is on my list of places to visit before I die. In addition to these red crabs, the island is also home to the scariest arthropod on the planet, the coconut crab:

Imagine finding that thing crawling through your house.

One of the darkest days in Arizona history: May 1, 2007. The day Janet Napolitano revealed the nation's ugliest state quarter

Damn you, Janet Napolitano. Damn you to the fiery pits of hell.

First off, I want to once again point you to this quote by me, from May 18th, 2006:

The winning quarter is going to be a saguaro cactus with the grand canyon in the background. Mark my words.

And after much bitching and moaning on my part, I resigned myself to the inevitable certainty that the Arizona state quarter was going to be a stupid, boring, idiotic, Satanic quarter featuring that hole and the cactus from my front yard.

A couple hours ago, it became official.

PHOENIX - The Grand Canyon State‘s quarter will feature both the national park and another familiar Arizona image: the saguaro cactus.

Napolitano‘s office disclosed her choice before a scheduled announcement Tuesday. The Arizona quarter, 48th in the state-by-state series, will be released in 2008, followed by Alaska and Hawaii.

And here's the quarter, the one I labled "The inevitable winner" on my last post about this:

Suck.

From this moment on (well after this post), Janet Napolitano is banned from this blog. She shall not be mentioned, and her very memory will be buried in a landfill filled with broken glass and the tears of all of Arizona's babies who will be crying tonight because their first cognisant thought will be of the major suck brought forth into this world in the form of 25 worthless cents.

Bah.

People are morons

So today was the big brand opening of the new In-N-Out Burger here in Tucson, Arizona. But if you actually drove by the place today, you'd think either Jesus himself was working the shake machine or the girl in the drive-thru window was topless and handing out free twenties and handjobs to everyone who came by. This is an actual picture from the Arizona Daily Star:

The drive-thru line had over 100 cars. The average wait time for your food was over an hour, after you ordered. Cars were running out of gas while waiting. Here's an article. And here's another one. Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.

There's one of these in Phoenix. You could literally drive to that one and get your food more quickly.

People get excited when there's something new. I get that. But this? Waiting an hour for fast food? Is it because In-N-Out Burger is so goddamned good? I don't think that's it. If it really was, the lines would be the same two weeks from now, and we all know they won't be.

So it's because it's new. But is it because their lives are so terrible that they're willing to torture themselves just to do something different? Or is it so they can brag that they were the first?

And in the end, does it matter why?

Don't get me wrong. I'm a fast food whore myself, and I do like In-N-Out Burger. I'm sure within the next couple weeks, I'll scoot over there and get hooked up. But if there's a line out the door, I'd have to be a moron to get in it.

Corporate logos that freak me out

Each one of these corporate logos/advertising icons freaks me out, and they always have. Can you guess what they all have in common?

When I was about five or six, I was sitting down one day watching television. My mom was in the room, and a commercial came on for Planter's Peanuts. There was Mr. Peanut, looking all sophisticated and cool with his top hat, monocle, and cane. I looked at my mom and we had a short conversation that went something like this:

"Mom, is Mr. Peanut evil?"

"What?"

"Is Mr. Peanut evil?"

"No, of course not. Why would you think such a thing?"

"Because he's a peanut, and he's helping to sell peanuts."

"He's just a mascot."

"But why would he want people to eat peanuts if he is a peanut? Wouldn't the other peanuts be mad at him?"

"He's just a mascot. He's not real. Now be quiet."

But I couldn't stop thinking about it. And ever since then, whenever I see a mascot that's made out of whatever it is selling, it freaks me out. The Kool Aid man is trying to get you to dip a cup inside of his head and drink his juices. The California Raisins are dancing, not because they like to dance, but because they want to entice you to eat them. The Michelin Man wants you to cut him into pieces and put his body parts on your car.

Imagine how horrible it would be to have the human race enslaved by aliens who raised us like cattle. What would you think of Lucy Liu if she suddenly started appearing in commercials on alien TV, singing about the virtues of Hong Kong liver and Canadian Bacon?

I'm pretty sure we would consider her a traitor of the worst sort. And even though I know these are just stupid little cartoons, that's what I think when I see Charlie the Tuna selling tuna and those Fry Guys in McDonald's commercials.

Traitor

I'm a murderer

This story is 100% true.

About two weeks ago, my wife was walking around the house, watering the plants. As she was watering each one, she leaned in close and said something like, "Coochie-coochie choo you like a dwink of water, baby? You thirsty? Here you go sweetie. Drink it all up for mommy!"

I found this to be particularly funny, and I mentioned it. She stated that her mother always talked like that to her plants, and they were always thriving. I mentioned the Mythbusters episode where it was shown talking to plants didn't really matter.

To prove my point, I walked up to the largest plant in our living room, a tree thing with leaves that we've had for eons. I got up real close and said in my meanest voice: "I hate you, you stupid, ugly tree. I hope you die a terrible, painful death. I hope all your leaves fall right off, and I hope you disappear from this world to never be remembered."

You can probably see where this is going.

R.I.P.

Two weeks later, the tree is dead. Dead, dead, dead. All our other plants are fine, but not the tree. We've had the thing for years, and it's never had a problem, and now it's dead. I murdered it.

The leaves are still green, but they are dry as a bone. You touch them, and they fall right off. They crumble in your hands.

I always wondered what it felt like to be a murderer. Now I know.

Slow motion is cool

I just spent the better part of an hour looking at things in slow motion, and now I'm going to subject you to it

How Lord of the Rings should have ended

A fellow geek and I were discussing this a couple months ago, and I just saw this video today:



It's funny because it's true.

Cat versus Fan

This made me snort Barqs through my nose.



(This is fake, I'm sure. I think it's part of a commercial for something. It still makes me laugh.)

The top 10 stupidest products (and services) people torture their pets with

I'm a big fan of animals (Well, not lizards, but that's a whole other story). I love dogs, cats, those rodent things that look like weasels but aren't. I've been a pet owner most of my life. I've managed to get by with two bowls, a leash, a pet carrier for visits to the vet, some grooming supplies, a litter box for the cat, a bunch of different toys, and that's pretty much it.

The other day I was surfing around, and I saw this treadmill for dogs on the net. A treadmill! I suppose it might be good for some dogs that are in training for the Iditarod, but for most dog owners? Have we really become that fat and lazy and yet... rich?

In 2006, 63% of US households were pet owners, and they spent an estimated $38.4 billion on pet products, almost double from just 10 years ago.

And that got me wondering. What other pointless, ridiculous, waste-of-money things are out there for pets? Here's the top 10 of what I found:

10) Ridiculous outfits

We might as well get this one out of the way. While I wouldn't ever begrudge a poor little chihuahua his winter sweater, or even a bit of fun on Halloween, you're taking it a bit too far, people. Swimming suits? Tuxedos? Cheerleading outfits? Sneakers.

Matching jewelry:

I don't know what the statistics are for pets turning on their owners, but I suspect a large number of them were forced to wear something like this the night before:

It's gotten so out of control, this is an actual product:

Yes. A wardrobe for your pet's clothes.


9) Pet McMansions and extravagant transport:

I guess--like the extravagant cribs talked about in the baby products list--if someone wants to spend $4,500 for such a ridiculous bed, it's no skin off my nose.

But what's the real message here? I bet the dog or cat wouldn't know the difference between this and a nice, fuzzy blanket. So is it an aesthetic thing? That might be part of it. But you know what I think? I think people buy these things for the same reason people spend $10,000 on a pair of shoes. Because they can. And not only that, but because you can't. Not only are they better than you, but their little dog is, too.

And if you're going to spend all this time coddling the crap out of Fluffy McNutterbutters at home, why suddenly lower him to common pet status when you take him out for a walk? Luckily there are several pet SUVS out there for your cats and dogs who are too good for leashes:

While I suppose the occasional walk to the vet or airport might benefit from one of these, most of these pet strollers are marketed as every-day products. Useful? Maybe. Silly? Absolutely.

Of course if a stroller is too cumbersome, cut out the middleman and turn your dog into the purse.

Yes, that's what it looks like.

8) The CatBib

No, this isn't a product to keep your cat's fur clean if you take her to Tony Roma's. It's a device you put on your outdoor cat that will prevent her from stalking and killing birds.

I guess it was designed because little bells are just too humiliating. According to the Catbib website:

Invented by a backyard bird-feeding, cat lover. The CatBib gently interferes with your cat's hunting skills, without interfering with any other kitty activities. It acts as a barrier coming between your cat and the bird your cat is after. Simply put...it gets in the way just as the cat strikes out for the bird.

I don't doubt that this thing actually works. But I'm pretty sure it stops hunting not because the bib prevents attack, but it makes the poor cat too humiliated and depressed to try to feed itself.

7) CDs and DVDs for your pet to enjoy:

I guess if you live in a nuclear fallout shelter that doesn't have windows, these videos might be a good alternative. But the music CDs? This one:

was made "under the guidance of (an) 'animal communicator." Uh-huh.

6) Dog anti-fart thong

I've owned several dogs over the years. At one time or another, all of them farted. Some of them farted a whole lot. No matter how bad it smelled, I would never consider this. According to the official website:

The Dogone - Dog Gas Neutralizing Pad is a comfortable and least intrusive means for deodorizing gassy discharges in a thong design. This will eliminate pet odors and dog odors from flatus or flatulence.

I see a couple problems. First off, I'm pretty sure there's a law out there somewhere that doesn't allow the words "thong" and "dog" to appear in the same sentence. Secondly, I'm pretty sure when they say "least intrusive," they mean "just put me out of my misery and send me to Burlington Coat Factory right now."

Here's my suggestion. Pet cologne:

or:

5) The PetSpa

"Help me"

It's a room you stick your pet in, close the door and they get all nice and fluffy. Here's the official website. I swear I saw something just like this on the Jetsons once. Most of the pets I've had all hated getting a bath or going to the groomers. So this is a quick alternative. A washing machine.

Here's a (hysterical) video of the Petspa in action. The video keeps getting removed from YouTube because of the Disney song attached to it, but I found it over at College Humor. It tells you all you need to know.

4) Pet Psychics

Your dog wants steak.

If you google "Pet Psychic," you'll find thousands of pages of professional pet psychics and "animal communicators" who will, for a small fee, tell you what your pet wants.

To believe in this, three leaps of faith need to be taken. First, you have to believe your animals have cognitive thought processes that will translate into things like, "I'm sad you didn't pet me a couple days ago, and quite frankly, I think your new boyfriend is an asshole." Secondly, you have to believe in telepathy, because that's what the animal communicators are doing.

And thirdly, you have to believe the particular animal communicator you've hired is adept at this.

I don't believe in any of this crap. Why? It's simple. If someone could actually do this, they would have taken over the world by now with their massive army of dogs, cats, bears, and sharks with freakin' laser beams on their foreheads.

3) Post Rapture pet care

There are people who believe that at any moment, they are going to simply disappear. Because of their strong Christian faith, Jesus will return, and they will ascend immediately to heaven. Everyone else left to deal with the ensuing chaos and coming apocalypse are the Left Behind. This is called the Rapture.

Unfortunately, the Bible is pretty clear pets aren't going anywhere. So who's going to take care of little Job the parakeet and Moses the iguana after you're gone? Jesus Pets, that's who!

Jesus Pets is a joke. A hoax. They are avowed non-Christians who promise to take care of your pet if the Rapture comes. The thing is, they don't believe the Rapture will ever occur while many Christians really do agonize over this.

I'm putting this on the list because this whole problem is ridiculous, a complete catch-22 for Christians who really believe this will happen soon.

My opinion? If you really believe that Jesus is coming any day now to take you away, and you care about your pets, give them away while you still can.

They're going to starve to death, and it will be your fault.

2) Doggie Cell Phone

You're lonely. Poochy is lonely. After your last session with the pet psychic, it's come out that she thinks you care more about your work than you do about her.

Yet the bitch doesn't complain when you bring the steak home. So you have a problem. You have to keep up the lifestyle she's accustomed to, but you really would like to spend more time with her. The solution? Easy.

A cell phone.

This is a real phone. Here's an article about it. You call the number, and the speaker on the collar automatically picks up, and you can have a two-way conversation with your dog.

The device also has a gps to track your dog if she goes missing. But that's just something they added to keep it out of the category of "batshit crazy."

1) Post death pet preservation

Look at these pictures:

Awww. How cute. What pretty puddy kitty all sweeping curled up in the light. And look at that guinea pig, all furry and smooshy and lovey. And the doggie resting by the door? Freakin' adorable!

One thing, though.

They're dead. All three of them.

They're stuffed. Taxidermied. And they all used to be someone's beloved pet. Someone who just couldn't let go.

Petpreservations.com is one of several taxidermy outfits who offer pet preservation. For a whole lot of money they'll take your deceased pet and give him back to you as good as new, minus all that troublesome eating and pooping and breathing stuff.

What a scenario. Imagine being a little kid, and having your dog hit by a car. He's dead. You cry, and you cry, and it's like the very world is ending. But eventually you start to get over it. Only one day, you come home and there he is sitting there in his favorite spot.

"Scout? Oh my god, Scout! You're alive! Come here, boy! Come here!"

Brains. Braaaaaaiiiinnns!!

If that's not at least $20,000 worth of future therapy, I don't know what is.

Sweet zombie christ. I get the chills every time I look at those, especially that third one of the dog.

(If that's too weird, you can always just have your pet turned into a diamond.)

And that's it. What a messed up world we live in.

Sometimes I wonder how people survived back in the old days. You know, like the 60's and 50's back before we had all this wonderful technology and all these cool gadgets.

As always, I'm sure I missed some good ones. Let me know, and I'll (eventually) post a follow-up.