OSAGE MENACE CONTROL/TURTLE HABITAT UTILIZATION DEPARTMENT

ASPCA NOTICE: NO TURTLES WERE HARMED IN THE CREATION OF THIS BLOG

Here at beautiful Lake Oz, we have an insidious menace threatening our shores…..namely turtles. No not sea turtles, those notorious terrifying terrestrial tortoises. My versatile cocker spaniel, Tommy, has declared open season on these ferocious reptiles infesting our woods
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Here is Tommy in the official OMC/THUD vehicle – a recent purchase from the Russian Mafia (according to H2’s superior knowledge of the auto industry.)











In my last blog, I forgot to mention Tommy’s main occupation, which is serving as the Assistant to the Department Supervisor of OMC/THUD, namely me. Tommy’s job is to locate these menacing marauders, root them out of their perfidious hidden crannies, wrestle them to the ground, and scare the shit out of them.












A DEFEATED TURTLE SCREAMING FOR MERCY

First of all, I must confess that Tommy loves his work and absolutely loathes turtles. He thinks they are too dumb to live around civilized people, and also they are invading his territory. Tommy and I have decided that since turtles are the oldest living reptiles – older than snakes and lizards - 215 million years of evolution has rendered them essentially mindless shells with feet.

They journey through the woods and end up facing our fence and have no idea what to do next. Obviously they have no knowledge of left or right turns, let along U turns. So they just sit staring at the fence for hours, while Tommy, on the inside of the fence, loudly exhorts them to leave. Needless to say, the neighbors do not understand his rationale and phone me to do something about my noisy dog.

It does no good to just say “shoooo” to a turtle. Since my duty as Department Head of OMC/THUD is habitat relocations, I have to walk through the woods around the outside of the fence carrying a bottle of red fingernail polish to where this pea brained reptile is sitting in his shell (guess he doesn’t like the barking either) and carry it back down in the woods facing the opposite direction. Now you (and the neighbors) may ask, “Why are you carrying nail polish?”

To which I answer, “to paint the shell of the invader, naturally”. If the same one shows up at my fence again, he is soup.







TURTLE AFTER HABITAT RELOCATION

Now, if a tortoise is encountered on our daily outing, Tommy is on it in a New York minute. He looks like he’s playing soccer with the hapless creature. The way he bats the thing around perhaps he mistakes the shell markings for soccer ball hexagons. They are quite similar, ya know, and Tommy is a big fan of David Beckham. We’re so glad he and Victoria moved to the U.S. and now we have another vapid blonde to watch on the Insider…..Oh, wait, I digress…………


Davey does seem to have somethin goin for him…..but can he sing???



Clay content: I wonder if Clay might be interested in helping me set up a turtle sanctuary. After all, these helpless creatures need to included in conservation efforts just like the more gifted (and attractive) animals. He knows my number if he is interested.
it’s just me, geni

"If dogs don't go to heaven, then i want to go where they go."



No this isn’t Tommy. This is the twelve million dollar Maltese, Trouble. Just goes to show that everybody loves pets. You don’t even have to be a nice person to love a dog. Well, yes, there is the possibility that Leona just left the dog that money to piss off her kids…..,..gotta love that woman
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CLICK ON ALL PIX TO ENGLARGE. YOU DON'T WANNA MISS THE MISCHIEVIOUS EXPRESSION IN TOMMY'S EYES.

Here’s my Cocker Spaniel,Tommy. He’s a wonderful dog and I wouldn’t sell him for twelve million dollars. (Please, Lord, don’t tempt me on this.) He is so smart, and talented. He works hard and loves to celebrate in his off time.





He really likes Halloween and greets each Trick or Treater at the door with
the bucket of treats in his mouth. Sorry I couldn’t get a pic of that, but he somehow ate all the treats when I wasn’t watching.





Independence Day is one of his favorite holidays. He loves the fireworks displays and he isn’t afraid of a little noise like those finicky Corgies or Poodles. Of course, there is the possibility that he just likes the BBQ hamburgers. Cost me a pretty penny last July when he burned his tongue on the grill.





He loves for me to read to him. Cat in the Hat is one of his favorites. He’s friends with the neighbor’s cat although he did get a nasty scratch on his nose (more vet expenditures) when all he was trying to do was greet her just like dogs greet each other……… I think in this pic he may be saying a few choice words about that hat.






He likes to play games. Cowboys and Indians is fun (but why do I always have to be the Indian?)





But I get back at him when we play dolls and he has to wear the bonnet.





We love to play Star Wars. I think he has a thing for Princess Leia and he never shares her with me. I have to make all the whooshing noises for the X wing fighters, but he’s working with his speech therapist on this problem.











Tommy is a really big Clay Aiken fan. He insists that I play Clay’s cd’s all the time. He even tried wearing his hair in bangs like his Idol.





And as I said, he’s a hard worker. Here’s Tommy resting in his easy chair after a hard day at the office, checking the stock market. Needless to say, his portfolio has been depreciating considerably…..he just threw down his hat in disgust.









Oh, I almost forgot his favorite holiday. Christmas of course. He just loves to wear that Santa hat. Oh, wait, that’s me…….nevermind.






Ok, so I lied a little bit. He didn’t lose that much in the stock market. He invests his funds very conservatively.

All right, the truth is….here’s where I find him every day when I come home from work. But the minute I wake him up…..he’s really happy to see me. He hasn’t figured out how to open the treat jar yet……






it’s just tommy’s playmate, geni

GENI IN THE SPOTLIGHTS




Dear loyal and concerned friends,
Just wanted to let you know that all is well and I am home. That nasty gall bladder is only a bad dream – sorta like a nightmare starring Kath y G. Now that I have a little time on my hands, I’m wondering what hospitals do with those extra parts? Maybe I should have asked to take it home so I could preserve it in Lucite or maybe just bury it in my back yard. You know, it was a part of me for many years and it deserves some respect.

And I know that y’all are really as interested in my operation as I am and so want to satisfy your curiosity as to the nature of a gall bladder operation. So hold on to your swivel chair cause I have an anatomy lesson planned that I know you won’t wanna miss.

THE PRECEDURE:
A newer way to remove the gallbladder is called laparoscopic (say "lap-are-oh-skop-ick") cholecystectomy. With this surgery, a laparoscope (a small, thin tube with a scope on the tip of it that is used to see the inside of your body) is used to remove the gallbladder. The laparoscope is put into your body through a tiny cut made just below your navel. Your doctor can then see your gallbladder on a TV screen and do the surgery with tools inserted in 3 other small cuts made in the right upper part of your abdomen. Your gallbladder is then taken out through one of the incisions.
Every good teacher has media now and I know you want to learn more about this spellbinding subject so i have a video which I am selling for a very reasonable price at genihasgall@cheapvideos.com. paypal accepted.

THE VISUALS:

I hope that isn’t a frog that has somehow made its way inside me. Maybe it’s one of those South American ones that the natives use for their poison darts. I bet that’s why I have been so sick.

Oh, wait, maybe this has been the problem all along.



I’m feeling so good now that I’m planning on going to the mall tomorrow because I haven’t been able to get out much lately. I bet I lost at least one dress size since I am rid of that troublesome organ.

and here’s what I look like now.



it’s just the new me, geni

Get Your Own! | View Slideshow

REMEMBERING

9.11 is the Pearl Harbor of our generation.

I remember my mother talking about Pearl Harbor. She said everyone was in such shock…but the main thing she remembered in her later years was that at that time ….she was in her twenties then….that her main thought was that this meant a war was coming and that her new husband would be drawn into it.

9.11 is the Peal Harbor of our generation. We all remember where we were and what we were doing that morning. I was getting reading to go with a friend to her out-of-town doctor’s appointment. I was in the shower when the phone rang.

I rushed to answer it. It was my daughter in CT calling to assure me that she and her husband (who works quite close to New York) were ok. I didn’t know what she was talking about. She said, “TURN ON THE TV”. So I did.

I stood there transfixed as I watched the replay on CNN of the first plane. Shivering in my towel. I was speechless. My daughter kept saying, “Mom…Mom”. I finally answered her ……asking her for what little additional information she had.

Then the second plane arrived. I sat down.

My friend, Carol, and I did make it to her doctor’s appointment. Life always goes on. Tragedy can slow life, but it never stops, I’ve discovered. There was a young couple in the doctor’s office, and when my friend went in, I started talking to them. He was a Marine and had been alerted to report back to his base. He had made arrangements for his flight and was with his wife before going to the airport. He wasn’t real sure any flights were leaving St. Louis, but he was going to be there at the gates just in case. When they rose to leave, my heart rose in my throat and I said, “God bless you.”

He turned back to look at me. He had such a strange look on his face. Amazement that someone would say that out loud in a public place, perhaps…..perhaps, concern that the oath he had taken in peace time to serve his country was a very serious thing , indeed, now…and, perhaps, a realization that all Americans were united that day….Marines and middle-aged ladies in doctor’s offices included.

In Mid America, half a continent away, this tragedy was all that was talked about. American was united on that day and for a few years after. Of course, we are back to our old scappy selves now. But that’s what America and our Star Spangled Banner is all about anyway, isn’t it?

I always wonder where that Marine is now.

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NO, I WASN’T HERE TO SEE THIS


And didn't hear this song live either.....

YES, I’m depressed, so I’ll understand if you don’t read this. It’s not funny or inspirational. it’s just depressing. But that’s what disappointment and ill health can do for a person. Sorry….. no smiling in the face of adversity from me. I’m a whiner. I know I’ve been cheated and I’m not gonna put a happy face on it. it’s not fair and I’m gonna bitch about it and try to spread as much doom and gloom as I can….. cause its lonely down here in the pits.

WASN’T HERE EITHER


I was reading a clay board where members were touting the three favorite concerts they attended. As you can imagine, this put me in a spiral of self-pity. Even Tommy left the room, tired of the moaning and groaning about how life is just not fair. (FYI – I spent three miserable days in the hospital instead of three glorious concert nights, the eagerly anticipated object of months of meticulous planning and scheduling and now have to have a gall bladder operation.)

Now I ask you, is that any way to treat a loyal-since- AI2 fan? And who is doing this treating anyway? Who is making these decisions? I want an up close and personal interview with that person. CAUSE IT AINT RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!

WHERE WAS I WHEN THIS HAPPENED? OH, YEAH, IN THE HOSPITAL!!

Not lookin for sympathy….yes, I know where to find it in the dictionary….just wanted to whine. and here's even a whiney poem. Now you can be depressed too...HA



SUMMER OF LOST DREAMS

I dreamed a dream
I made my plans
like wishing pennies in a well
worthless

who gets to pick
which pennies work
which dreams come true
pointless

now all is lost, I’m wide awake
and dreams are wisps long gone
the well’s been drained
wishless

it's better not to hope and dream
the pain is colder than the well
of tarnished copper drowned in tears
hopeless
geni 2007

it’s just me, geni