Of *Course* I Want to Reelect Obama!

   Note the heavy sarcasm in title.  

  Well, another election is coming up, and Republican campaigns are in full swing! Who will it be? Ron Paul? Newt Gingrich? Or will it be...
   President Barack Obama?
  Some gasps from the audience would be fitting right about now.
  You would think that, after being sold out to China, being threatened by the Middle East, borderline recession, people would have wised up a bit and would realize that, if we do not take this man out of office, America is going to be even worse off. However, here's a clip from some of the supporters, 4 years ago:

  

(In this video, the questioners are asking people what they like about Obama's policies- but they're actually McCains)

  I suppose with this level of thinking, I'm overestimating American citizens again.

    If American's voters are pretending to understand what they're talking about, when they honestly have no clue, how are we going to get America out of this mess? Then again, maybe they just want a president who's intellect makes them look superior... Watch this clip:

                                       

(57 states, eh? See what happens when the teleprompter goes missing?)

   To be honest, I think this is turning more into a race election than anything- that's what it was 4 years ago. People are so afraid of being called "racist", they vote out of fear of being labeled- even though they don't know what either candidate stands for! I am a white conservative teen, but I would vote for any candidate, male or female, black, white, Hispanic, whatever, provided they have sturdy, sound policies that they stand by. In the 2008 election, McCain did not once make any mention to Pres. Obama's race- our president did. In the presidents words:

"They're going to try to say that I'm a risky guy. They're going to try to say, well, you know, he's got a funny name, and he doesn't look like all the presidents on the dollar bills and the $5 bills."

-FOXnews.com

    I have not once heard anyone from the Right Wing say anything regarding his race, except for saying, in their own words, that he is pulling the race card. If we are to get rid of racism in America, stop bringing it up. According to Morgan Freeman:

    

(See? Logical thinking is not unattainable!)

   Since Obama's election, the new statistics are:

-88 million out of work, and not looking for jobs (working age)

-30% unemployment for over 52 weeks

-Worker health insurance prices have raised by 23%

-Home values have declined by 13%

-Average price of gasoline has risen by 90%

-Americans living in poverty has risen to over 6,000,000

-National debt has reached 44% higher than before he was elected

-Said debt is being increased by 4 billion dollars a day, since Obama has been elected.

(http://www.mrconservative.com/2012/02/2016-18-statistics-on-obama/   for more stats)

  

This years election will certainly be interesting.

Finally!

  Well, after almost a year of searching, I found her- my dream horse! She is a 5 year old Trakehner mare, registered as Limited Edition with the Trakehner assn. She's had about 30 days on her, is 16.2, and a dark bay (darker than in the pics). She is only $1,500, and she comes home Tuesday! Her sire is Kobra Von C, who happens to be the half-brother of Moorlands Totilas, making her from the Gribaldi line. Without further ado, here she is (pics from her inspection)!

 

 

   Sorry the quality of the pics is heinous,  the scanner is not the best! But you can get a pretty good idea of her basic conformation, and she's even more gorgeous now (these are several years old). You can all expect to be bombarded with pictures this Tuesday evening!

I can't wait!

Why You Should Never Watch a Program on Aliens With a Fever

  Colds suck.
  That's all there is to it.
  You feel miserable, hurt everywhere, have a headache that feels like an army of about 30 chipmunks are all pounding on the inside of your head with miniature mallets, and your throat feels like about 400 fleas have all decided to make their residence inside of it and are all stabbing your throat simultaneously. And you know it's nothing to complain about, because you could have Malaria, or Consumption, or some other horrible malady. But you're still insufferably cranky.
    That's how I've been all week.
   So last night was probably the worst of it, because that's when I finally got the fever (which is usually the breaking point, but is horribly annoying). So after going the day without drinking much of anything, except for a cup of Airborne, missing a concert with a friend, and basically just bumbling around the house mumbling to myself in a haze because I finished my (400 page) book in a day, and had really nothing to do, I was rather... dazed. So at 9:30, after grabbing a piece of toast and getting ready for bed, I see this on the TV:

  

   As I walked past the television with my toast, humming, I see a man who looks like he stuck a fork in a toaster and turned it on, talking about aliens. Am I the only one seeing the irony here? So, as I walk past, I look rather like:

  

   So, having nothing to live for because of my pathetic ailments, this was like utter peril- the man on the television is telling us that our world is doomed and aliens are going to invade! And doesn't everyone know that, if a guy can afford that much hair gel, he must know what he's talking about, right?

   Well, that evening I learned that Ben Franklin was most likely abducted by aliens, America was founded on alien principles, and they are watching our every move.

   Oh, and my dog is probably an alien too.

   3 A.M. found me in a dazed stupor, watching my dog from my bed in an attempt to find some sort of evidence of her prior abduction: 

  

   Until finally, at 7:

  And this is why you should never watch a program on aliens on the History Channel while half delusional. You might just see this:

The View from the Orthodontist Chair

   A visit to a dentist is a harrowing one, but in my mind, the Orthodontist trumps them all. Laughing gas forbidden, despite the torturous nature of these visits, the patients must simply subject to having their mouth pried open with horrific plastic cups, bringing to mind geeks of the 80s, having wires measured and clipped in their mouths, copious amounts of glue running down their teeth, and the dreaded ceramic molds are a given.
   My experience today was of the "I hate you all and don't know how you got certified" variety. It started off simple enough, until they said, in their disgustingly cheerful voice, "We're going to bond some brackets today! It may be a little... tricky."
   Note to aspiring students in the branch of orthodontics: "Tricky" is a dirty word. Along with "Oops!"
   Anyways, me being the utterly trusting and forgiving person I am (note the sarcasm), I settled down in the chair and put on the oversized sunglasses offered. From my position, the only thing I had of interest to look at was the light and the ceiling:

 

   After the lady led me in there and got me set up, she then left to go do some paperwork, leaving me to my thoughts and- hey, that spot looks like the big dipper!

     After making friends with the dots (Unwell by Matchbox20, anyone?) for about 20 minutes, Mr. Orthodontist himself came in, with two assistants. I gave an involuntary shudder as they pulled on the violet rubber gloves.

Mr. Orthodontist: So, how've things been?

Me: Okay, but-

Mr. Orthodontist: Teeth been well?

Me:Yes, except for th-

Mr. Orthodontist: Nothing poking?

Me: Well, there's this one wire in the ba-

Mr. Orthodontist: Glad to hear it's going well! So today we're going to bond some wires! *claps hands excitedly* Won't that be fun? 

  2 assistants nod in perfect unison. I presume this is what professional assistant hitmen look like when they're about to bag someone

Me: Umm...

Mr Orthodontist: Now open wide as I cram this hideously large mouth opener into your piehole so you can't speak, swallow, or move without possibly beheading yourself!

Me: ...

  The ensuing picture was a degrading one. There is nothing more humiliating than a wire mouth opener stretching your mouth out obscenely and the orthodontist practically sitting on you as he jams a syringe full of glue towards the back of your mouth while the assistants hand him more instruments with bland disinterest, discussing the new girl's car. I think it was the syringe that got me to freak out.

Me: Blur blibbing be a dot?! (roughly translated: You're giving me a shot?! Vile person!)

Mr. Orthodontist: I can't understand you, now hold still!

   I had been wiggling slightly to avoid the dreaded shot that I knew was coming, I suppose, but once I found out it was just a glue applicator I calmed down a bit. A little. Maybe. Anyways, after a particularly nerve wracking experience which involved me thinking he was looking at my teeth with a mirror, only to have it start vibrating (What the heck is going on, ohmygoshgetmeoutgetmeout THEY'RE GOING TO KILLLLL MEEEE!), then realizing it was one of those polisher thingys, he decided that, to get a better grip on my head, he would hook his thumb under my jaw (right at the pressure point), and hook a finger right behind my ear (the other pressure point), and pinch my cheek ruthlessly, like an over-exuberant aunt. It was horrific.

   I shall spare you the details of being whacked in the mouth when they dropped the pliers, getting glue on my nose of all places, and the dreaded "I just cut the wire in her mouth, and can't find the other piece". Utterly miserable. 

   But hey, I get them off either this summer or fall! HUZZAH!

How Chicken and Dumplings ruined my family's Social Life

   Our family is notedly anti-social. I can remember having company over maybe 5 times in my entire life. That's not to say we don't eat at other people's houses, but there appears to be something about our own domain that scares people off- besides the alleged man(or 11 year old girl...*cough*)-eating dog. No, I suspect it has something to do with the Chicken and Dumplings Incident...
   Quite a while ago, we were about to have some of mom's friends from work over. I was about 6 or so (or younger), and "helping" mummy in the kitchen. Well, one of mom's caveat dishes is a fantastic Chicken and Dumplings, and she was bustling away in the kitchen, chopping this, dicing that, amply tossing cubed chicken into the alluring broth sending delectable smelling steam above the pot.
   She was very excited and had the television on, glancing at that every once and a while, only slipping up and slicing her finger moderately deeply when she got distracted keeping me out of trouble (like not tossing my stuffed bear into the pot, tossing the dog's toy into the pot, tipping the pot over atop myself...). She amply shook spices and herbs into the bowl, making sure to get just the right amount, and of only the least spicy, as to not upset our spice-detesting guests. Flamboyantly stirring her delicious concoction, she looked like something straight off of Iron Chef, or Julia Childs reincarnated. It was mildly eerie, but quite impressive.
   After showily dipping the (clean) tablespoon into the simmering pot of Utter Liquid Joy and tasting said liquid, she pursed her lips, mumbles of "could use some pepper" softly under her breath. As we live out in the middle of nowhere, we buy all of our food in large bulk quantities- in other words, from Costco. All of our meat, vegetables, dried foods, etc, come in packages of about 17. Thus, our pepper container is about 2.5 pounds in total weight.
    As she carefully tipped the large container over the pot, humming quietly to herself, she glanced over her shoulder, to see me attempting to give the cat a bath in the dog's water dish. She quietly (quietly in comparison to a 8.2 earthquake, I mean- everything is relative) reprimanded me for torturing the poor old man (I presume that weakened his defenses, causing him to die several years later, the shock submerging in ice cold water by a 6 year old took years off his life) and suddenly got a very strange look on her face. It was a look I have only seen represented once, on stone- The Thinker, I believe it was.
   Her eyebrows wrinkled a bit in the middle, and her mouth came up with this odd little pout. She ever so slowly turned back and looked at the container in her hand, eyes not quite registering the empty container in her hand.
   How on earth could it be empty- it was a brand new bottle, after all!
   Then she saw that it didn't have the shaker-filter, it was simply an open mouthed bottle.
   She looked to the floor, to see if possibly it had spilled, because she had been a mite too exuberant while scolding me. She glanced all around the stove top, even looking up to see if she had possibly tossed it up into the hood of the oven- but alas, nothing.
   Finally, she took the ultimatum.
   She looked down, down into the pot, once bubbling joyously, as though it knew it contained a meal that would make Emril Legosy (or whatever his name is) weak at the knees, now silent.
   There, entirely covering the beautiful golden brown, perfectly formed dumplings, was a mountain. A granite Mount Everest, made entirely of pepper. Around the sides the broth still bubbled, in a pathetic attempt to cheer her up, but being unsuccessful, as the sent of pepper overpowered it, and the fact that it just looked now rather like yellow lava bubbling about didn't quite accomplish the intended effect.
   Do you know how difficult it is to scrape damp, chicken-y pepper out of a pot of chicken and dumplings?
   She deserves a badge of honor, really.
   As I remember it, we never were able to restore the dumplings to their original glory. Stained black with the spice, they really lost their appeal, and after making several noble attempts to swallow them, they were ultimately tossed.
   The guests never came back.
(This story has been 87% true, and only slightly exaggerated)
(But I'm pretty sure word got around that we were deranged Cajuns trying to poison all those that belonged to the ani-pepper persuasion, which caused the stop to our social lives)
Moral of the story:
Don't leave the cat loose around your child when cooking chicken and dumplings. Especially not when you have the pepper in your hand.

The Cone of Shame.

  Today, we went to the vet.
  Our pedigree 102.5 pound German Shepard stud dog now looks like:

    

I'll try to post pictures of the beast actually wearing it later, along with details of the operation!

How to Survive an Airplane, Part 1

  Airplanes are tough. They smell oddly, they're noisy, and you have the ever present nagging in the back of your mind going "at any moment the engines could shut down, and we could plummet into some horrible uncharted territory, and cannibals could eat our dead bodies".  Luckily for you, I have come up with a list of the worst possible airplane situations, and how to remedy them:
1: Noise

  

Noise on a plane stinks. You've got the engine noises, some weirdo next to you snoring and making odd sounds, rather like a dying squirrel, an annoying person yakking their head off about their son's girlfriend's sister's dog groomer's wife's home decor woes, a baby bawling behind you, and all you want to do is try to enjoy your flight. Some solutions are:

Music works fantastically. The only issues that can arise are people getting offended because you're not listening to them yammer on about people you'll never meet, or their toe fungus that you really didn't need to know about. Oh, and that weird rule about how you can't have any electronics going during take off. Is that because the pilot will pick up on whatever you're listening to?

2: Cramped, uncomfortable seating

   

Airplane seating is not for you if you suffer from claustrophobia, or have issues not fleeing when you sit next to someone who smells of Mexican food. So far, the only thing I have found to be effective is:

 

It's rather entertaining seeing 3 adults piling into one seat in a hasty attempt to not be bitten by the presumed rabid rat.

3: Airplane food rations

It really is a crime what they give out as snacks. You've been plane hopping all day without a chance to eat, and you have no loose money with you to buy a real meal, so you're super-duper-yay-happy-joy-time excited when the lady offers you complementary crackers. You tear into the brightly colored package decorated with smiling flight attendants gleefully, listening to the satisfying crinkle as you rip the top seam. You reach into the bag to feel the spoils- and come up with 2 shriveled up, broken crackers that appear to have originally been shaped as miniature airplanes. The disappointment is almost indescribable, like winning a 15 mile marathon, only to have the trophy to be a piece of paper that says "congratulations!", and the prize money turns out to be a 25 dollar gift card to what other than The Plumbing Store. It's one of the most painful experiences a human being can go through.

   

Also, you may notice that they are almost always in the shape of airplanes. I have always found this to be remarkably ironic, seeing as how you're eating the very thing that's keeping you from toppling 20,000 feet out of the air to your certain doom. "Oh yeah! I think I'll go eat my transportation like some GODZILLA right now! Mmm, it's so good!"

4: Annoying people

Annoying people are, by far, one of the worst things you will encounter on a flight- especially a 5+ hour one. Noted for having bad breath and not understanding the concept of personal space, these creatures latch onto you and talk as though it's critical to your future to know every little detail about their dirty rotten cheating husband, or how they like Cheesits better than Cheetos. Only in movies do you meet someone like: 

   

Instead, you get someone with a chronic gum infection who wants you to help them put on their ointment. So far, I've found that pretending to not speak English helps:

Or also acting like a raving lunatic:

    

-Enter peace and quiet-

Threatening to eat people always does the trick.

This concludes How to Survive and Airplane, part 1!