Monday, July 14, 2014


I cannot tell you the many ways I love this man and his Haute Couture fashion – but I am going to try!!

Where should I start?  Oh let’s just start with the shirt.  To say this man is brilliant would be an understatement.  So, you are at an event and a shirt is required, but you REALLY want to show off your tattoos – if you were a woman, you’d just wear a little halter top, but you are not.  What to do, what to do??

Lightbulb turns on and look, look what we get – a backless t-shirt for a man, cut to fit the specific tattoos, for the crowds viewing pleasure!   Do you think he has tried to market this, or do you think the trademark rights are still available?  

I mean – this could be totally customizable – tattoo on your chest?  No problem – just cut out the side it’s on (left pec or right) to show it off.  Tramp stamp on your lower back – just do reverse tails – have it long in the front and the short bit on the back side.  Tattoo around you belly button – just cut the rainbow style opening around your belly button and show your colors off to the world!  

Now – can we talk about the main tattoo – you know the big phallic symbol right up his spine? 

Well, I know what it is and those aren’t balls dangling at the small of his back – but let’s just play a guessing game – shall we?

Ok, so it’s not phallic (really – I insist, might be innuendo – but it really is something specific).  
Is it the Eiffel Tower?  Nope, it’s not the Eiffel Tower.  

Is it a snake being charmed out of a wicker basket?  Nope it’s not a snake being charmed out of a wicker basket.  

Hmmm, is it the Washington Monument?  Nope, not even close. 

Oh, c’mon – want to try one more?  Yes, I already told you it wasn’t phallic – geez. 

It’s a drag car – you have to turn the man on his left side to see it – but really and truly he had a dragster tattooed down the middle of his spine. 

Here let me help – you have to turn your head sideways to get the picture – but this is what he has on his back: 

Can you see the similarities?  No?  Well, that’s what he meant anyway.   

How do I know this?  Well, for my birthday weekend I dragged the husband to an NHRA race in Ohio – an absolute delight for me and proof of love from him (I’m a huge car girl/gear head – nothing like the full body experience of the vibrating roar of a 10,000 horse power car, doing three second runs down less than a quarter mile track at 400mph – love it! Hubby – not so much).

Oh, I should have taken the man’s picture at the end of the day too.  His back was so beet red it was apparent he didn’t think this Haute Couture fashion completely through.  He must not walk around shirtless much to catch a "base" tan– the sun screen – totally forgotten.  That’s gonna hurt in the morning.

But hey – I do love his courtesy for wearing a shirt, his enthusiasm for the sport and for his tattoo art, don’t  you?

Friday, July 11, 2014

Elevate Your Life

So Trouble, I mean Rosie, got into something and that something got her back.

A few days ago, we came home to her favoring her left leg/paw.  She wasn’t walking on it and she was flinging it out to the side.  She also wasn’t whining, which is something she often does when she “hurts” something (real or for sympathy).

We gave it a good look, flash lighted it looking for something in it, rubbed her leg, back, foot – got nothing from her indicating pain – went to bed. 

Five hours later – we woke up to her shaking and licking, looked at her bed and it was blood covered – grabbed her foot and it was the size of a small red plumb – flipped her foot over and it was an oozing mess.  

Then, then I squeezed it – oh – if you have a weak stomach stop here.  It was like a puss volcano, to say it was disgusting would be a complete understatement.  And I squeezed some more and some more, it was non-stop, but you know – that stuff has to go, can’t leave it in her.

After the “cleansing” I picked up our 17lb brick, carried her to the medicine cabinet to find gauze and dog ointment – wrapped it, then carried her downstairs to find an old baby sock, pulled it on and set her down.  You know, for 17lbs she is like an anvil when she doesn’t want to be picked up and carried around.

What we don’t get is that her foot was normal looking just five hours earlier, than whammo – yucko!

I guess we’ll go to the vet, Lord knows what you got into.

The vet looks at her oozing paw, makes a face, hugs her, says he’s taking her back for the techs to wash the mess up and re-bandage and carries her out of the exam room.  

If I haven’t mentioned this before - Rosie should be the mascot for our vets office.  

All you hear when they take her away is “Aw Rosie - come see this Dachshund, she’s so sweet, never met a friendlier one, come see her”.  Then I see her being carried by the exam room door being fed a treat.  Then I see her being carried back by the exam room door by someone else, feeding her a treat.  Then another tech has her and is praising her sweetness, while feeding her yet another treat and finally when she gets returned, the person that is holding her tells me there are two treat jars on the counter – I should give her one when we leave.

Bamboozled, she has them all bamboozled. 

So what we have is no idea what happened to her paw, a large vet bill for the exam, tending and expensive antibiotics and instructions to clean and soak the mess of a foot twice a day – which requires both hubby and I to do at a stupid am time of the morning and then again in the evening.

And incredibly a smart dog – look, she keeps it elevated.  No one told her she needed to keep it elevated and if we did, really would she understand?  But there she is, sleeping in her little bed – with her paw up on the edge – and she does this everytime, we don’t move it there, she just knows. 

I guess it’s true – we could learn a few things from animals – if we just payed attention.  Awww Rosie…