While we're technically within the city limits, The Spousal Unit and I live in a relatively secluded area. It's on a dead end street with a big, tree-filled ravine in the backyard. The ravine is one of my favorite parts about our house. It provides a lot of privacy, there are tons of animals, and (if I'm too lazy to carry it to the actual poop bucket) I can chuck dog turds down there. I'll sometimes use our poop scooper lacrosse-style and heave them into a steeper area where I never go even when I do climb down into the ravine. But due to my never having played lacrosse (and not being particularly accurate in general) my turd tosses don't always go where I had intended. They occasionally end up hitting (and sticking to) a tree about 15 feet up. Whenever this happens I imagine the squirrels going, "Great. Just fucking great. So much for climbing trees to escape those furry bastards." And by "furry bastards" they mean the dogs. Not 3 week old poop.
And if anyone can figure out what the title of this post means you'll get 20 bonus points.
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8 comments:
I have no idea what the title means, but like you, I often use my shovel like a lacrosse stick and rocket the dog crap across the street into a field. Unlike you, I played lacrosse in high school, so I always hit the field.
Did I mention I wasn't very good at lacrosse?
I have an ingenious device for disposing of dog poop. It's called my husband.
I'm still trying to figure out the title of the post, so any time you wanna break down and tell us . . .
At first, I thought maybe it was a reference to the amps in "This is Spinal Tap"; you know, the whole "ours go to 11, that's 1 louder, isn't it?" bit.
But I'm betting that ain't it.
limpy: The answer to the title question is at the end of this comment. And it's not 42.
tysgirl: Sylvia has one of those too. I'd tell you about how her poop scooper also cooks and cleans but we've already gone over how much better of a husband you have and I'm not sure my ego can take it again.
o'butter: OK. Since you're a teacher here's the solution in a manner you can relate to. If 3 of something equal 10 then the equation (where Y equals "something") could be written:
Y * 3 = 10
Solving for Y we come up with:
Y = 10 / 3
Which means Y equals... that's right, tree and a turd
And THAT'S the kind of entertainment you come here for.
I thought for sure it was how many cats it FEELS like there are on the bed at night when there is actually only 3. (Weinercats)
weinercats: Ain't that the fucking truth? How can one 70 pound dog sleep all curled up at the end of the bed all sweet and nice so you hardly notice she's there (at least until you want to "do it") but the 3 15 pound cats manage to suffocate and completely immobilize you?
Hey now, I never said my husband was better than Sylvia's. Don't be putting words in my mouth. It sounds to me like you take wonderful care of your wife. You should be very proud of that because a lot of men don't bother!
Can you picture the squirrels, with nervous looks on their little faces, constantly looking over their sholders for fear that the dog that could take a dump and hit the tree that high is sneaking up on them?
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