Category Archives: Allegory

internet dating for dogs

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Dog. Duds. What's to explain? Except the psychology of the owner... 

No, I’m not going to tell you the way to happiness on Lavalife is to Photoshop your picture into something approximating Beckham/Beckinsale. I’m talking about real internet dating for actual, quadruped-type dogs.

Because in this world of ours, people just don’t live vicariously enough, dammit!

From the New Zealand Press, via Fark.

A new matchmaking service for dogs – and virtually every other kind of domesticated pet from apes to zebras – promises to facilitate the arduous and heartbreaking process of hounding for the perfect mate.

Petpalio. com is the brainchild of Aaron Rodrigues, a 17-year-old self-styled “student entrepreneur” from Auckland.

Rodrigues said he came up with the concept after an agonising search for a canine companion for his two-year-old bichon frise, Lasie…

The website, launched just over a week ago, has attracted 40 eligible pets, mostly from the United States and the United Kingdom.

One wonders if this wonderkind had any idea what the Palio actually was before he named his site Pet Palio.com. Will registrants saddle up wee Fifi or Bowser and gallop madly around a town square in Italy, frantically lashing at the faces of the other jockeys, all for the glory of a neighborhood of which they have never heard, and which they will never be able to pronounce?

I’d pay to see that.

Actually, there’s a sadness underlying this story, an unspoken sadness. What he’s not saying is what everyone at the dog park knows: there’s a reason his precious Lasie is still heartbreakingly single.

Lasie‘s only interested in real bitches.

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smells like ass

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Jenny the donkeyDidja ever have one of those days…

those days where nothing seems to go right,

those days where you just can’t catch a break, 

those days where you’re a donkey and you fall into a septic tank, and bloggers all over the world make fun of you?

The entire rescue was caught on tape by a photographer at NBC affiliate WOAI…

The donkey, named Jenny, fell into the septic tank at Jesse Salcedo‘s property, and it took firefighters nearly two hours to get her to safety.

“She probably just fell in there by accident or just flipped the lid over or something,” owner Jesse Salcedo said.

Sandy Oaks and Somerset fire departments were called in for the rescue. Edward Dugosh was one of their shortest and smallest firefighters on the scene. He was sent in the septic tank.

“(It’s a) nasty hole, smells horrible,” Dugosh said. “It’s just the worst environment imaginable.”

The donkey’s condition is reportedly …

stable.

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mercury spill found: Voldemort sought for questioning

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Killingly, you say? 

Has the bodiless villain of the Harry Potter novels crossed the Atlantic to spread death and horror on fresh turf? Could unicorns all over North America soon fear for their innocent lives? And, more importantly:

Does this mean that sexy bitch Alan Rickman is around here somewhere?

This chilling report from the aptly-named Killingly, Connecticut would lead one to believe so…

A “significant amount” of mercury from an unknown source was discovered on Putnam Road Saturday, causing an undetermined amount of soil contamination, according to the state Department of Environmental Protection.
While state environmental officials declined to discuss the possible threat to public health, mercury is a highly toxic substance known to cause a variety of health problems, such as nervous and immune system damage.

“The fact that someone could be so callous as to discard this type of material so near the Five Mile River is outrageous,” said Terry Chambers, who lives close to the contamination site and first reported the mercury. “An event like this could have environmental repercussions for the next 100 years.”

If not longer…

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sounds like a plan

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like animal farm, but with fluorescents

Hey, it always worked for me. From the relatively insane Rum & Monkey, we present:

20 Indicators that Weeping at Work
May Be a Viable Plan Going Forward

Chair has become one with Nestene consciousness and keeps trying to nibble on bum.

Utopian vision for global democracy dashed by gel-haired colleague’s Daily Mail worldview.

Zombie army escaped again and appears to want IT support.

Oh noes, someone took two donuts.

Microsoft Office has become otherworldly sentient intelligence and still just wants to know if you’re writing a letter.

and so on…ah, the year I put in at the cubicle farm. Good times, good times. Okay, I confess: it was me who freed the zombie army and gave them your pager number.

So we know who I am: the question now becomes, who are you? Take the Office Moron quiz!

Which Office Moron Are You?

I'm great. Like gold.

Which Office Moron Are You?
Rum and Monkey: jamming your photocopier one tray at a time.
Congratulations, fool! You’re the incompetent egotist.

Every office has one. You stride in on your first day with no useful skills, an inane smile on your face, and plans for a variety of team-building exercises, meetings, extra-curricular activities and staff days out, all designed to win you favour with the boss.

The problem is, everyone else hates you. You’re loud, you’re arrogant, you’re dumber than management, and you insist on wearing really loud shirts to make yourself seem interesting. Even the IT manager is more socially aware – and the depressing thing is, you’ll probably run the company in ten years.

If you don’t get a pickaxe through your head first.

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quiz: what poetic form are you?

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That last quiz sucked quite horribly.
On this, you see, we can agree.

This quiz is better; smarter too!
Take this one too. Tell us what’s you.
 

I’m terza rima, and I talk and smile.
Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away
I let mine out, and chatter all the while.I’m rarely on my own – a wasted day
Is any day that’s spent without a friend,
With nothing much to do or hear or say.I like to be with people, and depend
On company for being entertained;
Which seems a good solution, in the end.

What Poetry Form Are You?

I totally thought I’d be cheap doggerel; that’s definitely the kind of poetry I feel like when I wake up hungover at least. First runner-up, though, was Blank Verse, and now we’re getting somewhere…

I am, of course, none other than blank verse.
I don’t know where I’m going, yes, quite right;
And when I get there (if I ever do)
I might not recognise it. So? Your point?
Why should I have a destination set?
I’m relatively happy as I am,
And wouldn’t want to be forever aimed
Towards some future path or special goal.
It’s not to do with laziness, as such.
It’s just that one the whole I’d rather not
Be bothered – so I drift contentedly;
An underrated way of life, I find.

What Poetry Form Are You?

Quiz stolen from Word Document.

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