If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out LOUD!
Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet.
Here's what happened:
Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was 'something wrong' with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.
'He's just lying there looking sick,' he told me. 'I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?'
I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do..
'Honey,' I called, 'come look at the lizard!'
'Oh, my gosh!' my wife exclaimed. 'She's having babies.'
'What?' my son demanded. 'But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!'
I was equally outraged.
'Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce,' I said accusingly to my wife.
'Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?' (I think she actually said this sarcastically!)
'No, but you were supposed to get two boys!' I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth).
'Yeah, Bert and Ernie!' my son agreed.
'Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,' she informed me (Again with the sarcasm!).
By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.
'Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,' I announced. 'We're about to witness the miracle of birth.'
'Oh, gross!' they shrieked.
'Well, isn't THAT just great? What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?' my wife wanted to know.
We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.
'We don't appear to be making much progress,' I noted.
'It's breech,' my wife whispered, horrified.
'Do something, Dad!' my son urged.
'Okay, okay.' Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug.
It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.
'Should I call 911 ? ' my eldest daughter wanted to know.
'Maybe they could talk us through the trauma.' (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)
'Let's get Ernie to the vet,' I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.
'Breathe, Ernie, breathe,' he urged.
'I don't think lizards do Lamaze,' his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb).
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.
'What do you think, Doc, a C-section?' I suggested scientifically.
'Oh, very interesting,' he murmured. 'Mr. and Mrs.
Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?'
I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
'Is Ernie going to be okay?' my wife asked.
'Oh, perfectly,' the vet assured us. 'This lizard is not in labor.. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen.
Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um . . um . . masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.' He blushed, glancing at my wife.
We were silent, absorbing this.
'So, Ernie's just. . just . . excited,' my wife offered.
'Exactly,' the vet replied, relieved that we understood.
More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.
'What's so funny?' I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.
Tears were now running down her face. 'It's just. .that . .
I'm picturing you pulling on its . . . its. . . teeny little . . '
She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
'That's enough,' I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the lizard and our son back into the car.. He was glad everything was going to be okay.
'I know Ernie's really thankful for what you did, Dad,'
he told me.
'Oh, you have NO idea,' my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter..
Two lizards: $140.
One cage: $50.
Trip to the vet: $30..
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie:
Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class.
Lizards lay eggs!
AND another funny
Due to the recent economic crisis,
Budget cuts, stock market crash,
rising unemployment, unstable world
conditions, outsourcing of business,
the cost of insurance, electricity,
petroleum and taxes of all kinds,
we regret to advise you that the
"Light at the End of the Tunnel"
has been turned off.
We apologize for the inconvenience.
If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking.
George S. Patton
What's on your list of dealbreakers when it comes to romantic relationships?
I'd have to say lack of communication, take houdini for example. He really needed to MAN THE FUCK UP and just tell me what the hell was going on. EFFIN pussy ass freak!
noun: Pout; grimace.
From French moue (pout), from Middle French moe.
"You can almost see the helpless little shrug of the shoulders that accompanies it and the moue of that perfectly lipsticked mouth."
I am halfway through, Promises in Death, JD Robb
Tonight is: Ugly Betty, Hell's Kitchen, ER and Burn Notice.
The Alchemist in the City
My window shews the travelling clouds,
Leaves spent, new seasons, alter'd sky,
The making and the melting crowds:
The whole world passes; I stand by.
They do not waste their meted hours,
But men and masters plan and build:
I see the crowning of their towers,
And happy promises fulfill'd.
And I - perhaps if my intent
Could count on prediluvian age,
The labours I should then have spent
Might so attain their heritage,
But now before the pot can glow
With not to be discover'd gold,
At length the bellows shall not blow,
The furnace shall at last be cold.
Yet it is now too late to heal
The incapable and cumbrous shame
Which makes me when with men I deal
More powerless than the blind or lame.
No, I should love the city less
Even than this my thankless lore;
But I desire the wilderness
Or weeded landslips of the shore.
I walk my breezy belvedere
To watch the low or levant sun,
I see the city pigeons veer,
I mark the tower swallows run
Between the tower-top and the ground
Below me in the bearing air;
Then find in the horizon-round
One spot and hunger to be there.
And then I hate the most that lore
That holds no promise of success;
Then sweetest seems the houseless shore,
Then free and kind the wilderness,
Or ancient mounds that cover bones,
Or rocks where rockdoves do repair
And trees of terebinth and stones
And silence and a gulf of air.
There on a long and squared height
After the sunset I would lie,
And pierce the yellow waxen light
With free long looking, ere I die.
Gerard Manley Hopkins
Sausage, Spinach, Ricotta Stuffed Pasta Shells Recipe
1 12-ounce package jumbo pasta shells
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 cup finely chopped yellow onion
1 pound sweet Italian sausage, casings removed
1 Tbsp minced garlic
1 large egg
16-ounces ricotta cheese
10-ounces chopped frozen spinach, thawed, squeezed dry, chopped further (or 10 ounces chopped fresh spinach)
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 Tbsp chopped fresh basil or 1 teaspoon dried basil
1/4 cup unseasoned bread crumbs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 28-ounce can tomatoes with herbs, including the liquid, tomatoes broken up (or your favorite tomato or pasta sauce)
2 9x13 shallow baking dishes
1 Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil (1 teaspoon salt per quart of water). Cook the pasta shells according to the instructions on the package. Drain, rinse in cold water, and set aside.
2 Heat olive oil in a large skillet on medium high heat. Add the onions and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the sausage to the pan, breaking up the sausage into smaller bits. Cook sausage until cooked through, and no pink remains, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds to a minute more. Remove pan from heat.
3 Beat the egg lightly in a large bowl. Mix in the ricotta, chopped spinach, 1/2 cup of the Parmesan cheese, basil, bread crumbs, salt, pepper, and sausage mixture. Fill each cooked pasta shell with some of the ricotta, spinach, sausage mixture.
4 Spread 1/2 cup chopped canned tomatoes over the bottom of each of the baking dishes. Arrange the stuffed pasta shells in the dishes. Spread the remaining tomatoes over the top of the pasta shells.
At this point you can make ahead, to freeze (up to four months) or refrigerate before cooking. (If freezing, cover with foil, then wrap with plastic wrap.)
5 Heat oven to 375°F. Cover the pans with foil and bake for 30 minutes, until hot and bubbling. Remove foil and sprinkle with remaining Parmesan cheese, bake uncovered for 10 more minutes.