I Hate Yellow Foam

Well, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I have a leather sofa. The bad news is that my dog, Honey, just puked on it. First of all, she isn't even allowed on the furniture (a rule invented to avoid just exactly this kind of catastrophe). Second of all, she puked between the seats instead of on a cushion like a good girl. So of course this means that the day that I clean out under the sofa cushions is, in fact, today (instead of "one of these days").

It was yellow and foamy with speckles in a variety of sizes and colors. I found myself talking to her as I was cleaning,

"Really? Honey? You threw up, huh? Gee...that's too bad. What do you suppose caused this? Could it have been when you ate the fecal matter of another dog in our front yard this morning? Do you remember that I told you specifically NOT to eat that? Or maybe it was the Barbie doll you harfed down last night as my six year old daughter chased you, screaming and crying. OH! I know...it must have been when you chowed down on the contents of the babies diaper yesterday! I'm no expert, but just witnessing that made me feel kind of squishy....

You just don't deserve this, poor baby. Of course, I was worried when I saw that you had found a bottle of Windex and managed to drain that, but that was a few days ago and surely would have impacted you sooner. Hmmm. I just can't imagine why you are puking. I'm just thinking out loud here, but maybe you should consider that you are not a fucking GOAT and should try NOT eating anything and everything light enough for you to drag away. Perhaps, just until you feel better, you should try eating only what is in your dog food bowl BOUGHT SPECIFICALLY FOR THE PURPOSE OF FEEDING YOU. So no more shopping for morsels in the yard or the garbage can, OK?"

There is something, though, that I just don't understand. When I found her she had already honked it all up and was in the process of - yes, you guessed it - eating her own vomit. Why do dogs do this? Why don't they have the general comprehension that if it was so bad your stomach kicked it out in the first place that reconsuming it could only lead to trouble. I don't throw up often but when I do I try to avoid re-eating it. I guess I'm pretty dependable that way. Oops! I'm bragging...sorry about that...

And The Winner Is...

I have some very exciting news. For the first time ever the Blog of Bex is giving out an award . Yes, I know. I can feel my heart pounding, too. I will call it the Bite My Ass Award (BMAA) and I'm sure it will be coveted. Now you might be wondering just who will be the lucky recipient. Could it be Diesel, the mastermind of Humor-Blogs and Mattress Police , who - for reasons unknown to me - revamped the scoring system and and reset my score to zero? Nope. This action has actually mysteriously seemed to work in my favor. I'm sure it's temporary. ANYWAY, on to the big news. I hereby give my BMAA to this guy: Handsome little fucker, isn't he? His name is James Jackson, IV and his friends call him Jay. I like to call him Fucktard because I believe that your name should say something about the kind of guy you are. And he's a total fucktard. What, you may wonder, did he do to generate such ire from me? Well I'm so glad you asked. He owns two boutiques in suburban At...

Pervy McPervert strikes again!

When I was a kid I used to make the occasional prank call. But then I turned 13 and decided that it was a fairly retarded way to spend ones time. I've also received a few "heavy breathing" calls in my day. My mom finally bought us a whistle and said that whenever "he" called that we were to blow the whistle as loud as we could into the phone. That worked although I do wish she had specified that before blowing the whistle I should take the receiver away from my head as my ear made this weird ringing noise for days afterward. But it got rid of the pervert. It's a new day, however, and perverts must be looking for new ways to annoy us. Twice today someone has texted a picture to me. I have no idea who he is or what the hell he wants. But he must think that I don't know that sometimes shirtless men squeeze their arms against their chest to give the appearance that they actually have biceps when, in fact, their arms really look like toothpicks that are broke...

Protesting at Funerals: A Look at the Deranged and Demented

I normally like to write about funny things. (At least they are things that I find funny.) They are usually attempts to be funny in a ha-ha kind of way, although sometimes I will throw in something that's funny in a weird way, just to shake things up. But what I want to write about now isn't funny at all. It is shocking and horrific. There was a girl from my home town who was murdered at Auburn University last week. Her name was Lauren Burk and she was 18. She went to our local high school and although I didn't know her many of my friends children did. She's being buried today. Her family is, naturally, heartbroken. It was a random, tragic and violent attack. That's really bad enough. My husband drove by the funeral home yesterday and noticed that there was a small army of Harley Davidson riders holding American flags. They appeared to be guarding the memorial service. It turns out that they were asked to be there to protect the family because a group called the We...

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