Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Hanslanda]

When I get home from work, I ask my littlest dog if she is ready, she gets all excited, and I tell her, it's sock hat time! Then I put a sock on her head and she loves it.

[Yoink]

Dang, Hans, that post was so very cute and wholesome that it put a smile on my stupid sad face.
I've been in a pretty terrible mood so such small victories are welcome indeed.

[Derpy Dev]

When I get home from work, I ask my littlest dog if she is ready, she gets all excited, and I tell her, it's sock hat time! Then I put a sock on her head and she loves it.

That's so stupidly adorable and I love it.

[Hanslanda]

I'll have to get some pictures for y'all. She is a Jack Russell terrier, so it's pretty cute.

[Yoink]

Oh goodness. Yes! Do it! Sock hat optional, I wouldn't want our need for photographic evidence to disturb the ritual unduly.


On a less wholesome note, here is something I just stumbled upon that is both WTF-worthy and tangentially related to the earlier topic of conspiracy theories:

Spoiler: Jet fuel can't melt dank memes (click to show/hide)

===================

I sleep in my glasses most nights.  The ceiling is cottage cheese texture, and in the morning light appears to move due to poor vision.  The apartment is shaped like a crematorium incinerator and though it is not yet noon with no cross ventilation the heat is particularly violent.  The fan and television are still on from the night before, but the blades offer little respite and I can’t remember what I was watching.  My tongue scrapes the roof of my mouth and I remember I did not brush my teeth before falling asleep.  Today is 9/11 and I feel okay.

Fourteen years ago I am waking up again although this is before a corneal ulcer almost robs me of vision. 

The television set is still on from the night before and I cannot remember what I was watching but now there are people jumping out of buildings and fire in the sky.  Something happened in New York City and now Ja Rule is on MTV talking about it and crying. 

TGIF.

Last night someone posted a photograph of George W. Bush smiling and looking off-camera all sly and suggestive with the caption “When it’s September 10.”  I know what is in store for me.  I can not wait.  I open my laptop and smile.  A hoarse, giddy laughter - a hiccup of amusement - first thing in the morning.  9/11 is the Christmas of memes. 

An attractive “alt” model sits atop a laundry machine, the macro text “jet fuel doesn’t melt steel beams” superimposed.  A mock Subway sandwich advertisement featuring a hungry man flying into two upright footlongs, “You will ‘never forget’ this deal!” printed as the copy.  A stock photo of a couple fucking, the man wearing an oculus rift VR headset, the below panel reveals he is watching a 9/11 truther Youtube video.

Then there are the found images: people positioning their burritos to resemble the towers, a dog wearing an inside job onsie, and, my personal favorite, a flyer for a frozen yogurt joint with the phrase “never frogurt.”  These are the images that are circling the internet and it is so beautiful I really want to cry.  My friend texts me an image of a switch blade with the second tower explosion engraved in the handle and I almost crash my car. 

 They keep coming, these 9/11 memes.  I can’t stop.  I am staring at full-back tattoos of the twin towers (in both garish color and tasteful black and white.)  I try to face the computer but I keep thinking about those knives, that dog, and never frogurting.  The 9/11 meme cannot be unseen.  Even as I’m writing this I have a hard time suppressing my excitement.  I see people online posting actual sincere tributes to 9/11 and I have to ask myself “is this a joke or not?”

 I know this is tasteless and so many have died and I know I know I know.  The world is an impossibly cruel and incomprehensible place.  The memes make it better… they help me.  They force me to confront the absurdity of existence and make me laugh.  It’s a therapy.  Someone made this image or found it and put it online and now other people are sharing it and I’m sharing it and I am not alone.  Instead of negative reactions the memes are met with encouragement, love.  I’m getting likes on Facebook for 9/11 memes, some from people I haven’t seen or spoken to in years.  One guy comments “you’re on a roll!” 

 Call us legion for we are many. 

 The day passes and slowly the number of memes begins to dwindle.  It’s dusk and I feel a pang of sadness because I don’t want 9/11 to end.  I need it to keep going because this is the best I’ve felt in weeks, maybe months.  Because on 9/11 there is something about us that is collectively fucked.  Because on 9/11 we are all hurt and confused and traumatized by the world around us.  Because on 9/11 Ja Rule cried...  Ja Rule shed tears on live TV and how crazy is that? 

 It’s dark now and the memes have stopped appearing on my feed.  No new likes.  I will go out and be a part of the world but it will not be the same.  Occasionally I will pull out my phone and check but the well has run dry and its time to move on.  One of the pages I follow posts a pro-sibling incest meme and I click share.  Fourteen people like it, most of whom I know have brothers or sisters.  “Wow” one comments.  “Trying to get unfriended,” I respond.  “Gotta go pretty far to push me astray” followed by a winking emoji. 

 I am home again.  I have the foresight to kick off my shoes.  I should do dishes.  An unread text message: George W. Bush giving me the finger.  I turn on the fan, the television, and fall asleep with my glasses on. 

Years ago I am walking down the street see a little girl walking with her father.  She is maybe nine years old, an Aryan poster child.  She is wearing one of those Big Dog shirts, far too large for her slight frame.  The image on the shirt is of the two towers burning.  Time slows down.  In the foreground was the Big Dog, dressed as a New York firefighter.  He is opening up his jacket and exposing the Superman-S on his chest.  The text read, “they messed with the wrong dog!” 

I have searched far and wide for that shirt but can find no evidence that it ever existed.  Similarly, I can find no evidence of the Ja Rule crying transmission.  Maybe I dreamt them?  It’s not outside the realm of possibility… and, if so, what the fuck does that even mean?  Does it even matter?  It’s all one 9/11, man...

[Draignean]

I'll have to get some pictures for y'all. She is a Jack Russell terrier, so it's pretty cute.

Please do, my partner loves Jack Russell's, and I know she'd be glad of the pics.

[wierd]

(Scary childhood memories of the year mom raised Cornish/Rock hybrid chickens for meat. Those things were ravenous, gigantic monsters. Unlike purebred large breeds, these grow absurdly fast, and so frequently have deformities. We had fryers the size of small turkeys in just a few months. Scary stuff.)

[Hanslanda]

https://imgur.com/a/tc5Io

Dogs! Babies! Hans! Hans' wife!


>.> I'll dp this to the Photoshare thread so it's not weird. I figured I might as well upload all those while I was at it.


---

On a more serious note, my old dog died today. He was nineteen and one half years old. My wife was home for it, and she grew up with the poor guy. He died of a heart attack, quickly and painlessly (he had one earlier this week, so I sorta expected it.) but it's still shocking and WTF worthy, I feel.

I wasn't so much sad as just shocked and worried for my wife and pups.

[Dunamisdeos]

Aw, sorry for your loss. Dogs are important.

[Hanslanda]

They are. He was my little buddy. He was blind and deaf, but he was so full of love. I used to guide him like those fish do for shrimp in the ocean, Goby fish, I think. I'd keep one hand on him and walk him outside to the grass, and he'd wander off to go potty, then get scared and bark, and I'd come over to him and slowly put my hand in front of him so I wouldn't startle him too much. Then he'd run after me, following my scent back to the house.

He loved nothing more than curling up on a blanket we got just for him, on the floor at the end of the bed. We are burying him in it today, in about thirty minutes. I just wish I'd been able to do more for him. At one point, we were going to put him down (re: Blind and deaf, for multiple years, OOOOOOOOLLLLLD) so I cooked him a New York Strip steak, fed it to him in portions over two days. The day to put him down came, and we decided to keep him around.

That was two years ago. So glad we kept him. Sorry to gush, but I am so unemotional and private IRL, I have to tell someone all this.

[LordBaal]

Sorry for your loss my friend.

[Derpy Dev]

Aw, that's so sad. Sorry.

[Loud Whispers]

Bless you and your dog, sounds like he was a good dog

[Eric Blank]

Very good dog

[nogoodnames]

I managed to squirt scorpion pepper sauce into my eye today. That was unpleasant. Snap caps should be banned for anything hotter than Tabasco.