Stupid Dogbot

First for the "aside"

I was reading a heated discussion between a Californian visiting Houston who thought there was nothing to do there, and a few residents and natives. Three responses made me giggle.

One former Californian said:
Who gives a sh*t if there aren't any mountains, all you ever did with them was look at them or maybe drive up them and look back down.

A native Texan said:
There's this thing in West Texas called the Chihuahuan Desert. It's the largest desert in North America and much cooler than the Sonoran. They even have mountains out that way. Sure, they don't really compare with the mountains in California. While you're out there in West Texas you'll notice other drivers waving at you. No, they don't have designs on your pocketbook, they're just being friendly. Strange isn't it?

And a Houstonian said:
Otherwise...you know here in Texas we have lots of quaint sayings...and one of them is that the highway you drove in on goes both ways...

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Now for the stupid dogbot

Ford is airing an intriguing series of ads for its smart Fiesta. I love that stupid dogbot but am not going to tell you why. Just watch the videos, have a laugh or say "aaahhh", and then tell me why YOU want or don't want him!

Avalanche Dogbot:



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Head Trap Dogbot:



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Deadly Gramophone Dogbot:



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Bringing Down the Moon Dogbot:



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Water Hydrant Dogbot:



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Hamsterball Dogbot:

Merry Christmas y'all

Have a Merry Christmas everyone, whatever you choose to do. (We are packing boxes, but we will roast a duck and have pancakes in the morning.)

Not sure when next I will be able to blog.
Very stressful. Not least because someone stole the deposit and first month's rent on a flat we wanted, so feeling the strain...Wish us well in finding a new home before 7 January...one that we won't want to leave for a long long time.

Meantime, put on your best Cajun accent and enjoy the 12 Days of Crissmus in de Bayou.

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Day 1: Dear Boudreaux, Thanks for de bird in de Pear tree. I fix it las' night wit dirty rice. I doan tink de pear tree will grow in de swamp, so I swap it for a Satsuma.

Day 2: Dear Boudreaux, You letter say you sent two turtle doves, but all I got was two scrawny pigeons. Anyway, I mixed dem with andouille an made some gumbo out of dem.

Day 3: Dear Boudreaux, Why doan you sent some crawfish? I'm tired of eating dem darn birds. I gave two of dose prissy French chickens to Marie Trahan over at Grans Bayou an fed the tird one to my dog Phideaux. Marie needed some sparring partners for her fightin' rooster.

Day 4: Dear Boudreaux, Mon Dieux! I tol' you no more friggin birds. Deez four, what you call dem "calling birds" were so noisy you could hear dem all de way to Napoleonville. I used dere necks for my crab traps, an fed de rest of dem to de gators.

Day 5: Dear Boudreaux, You finally sen' somethin useful. I like dem golden rings, me. I hocked dem at da pawn shop in Thibodeaux and got enuf money to fix da shaft on my shrimp boat an buy a round for da boys at de Raisin' Cane Lounge. Merci Beaucoup!

Day 6: Dear Boudreaux, Cochon! Back to da birds, you coonass turkey! Poor egg suckin' Phideaux is scared to death at dem six gaeases. He tried to eat dems eggs and dey peck de heck out ah his snout. Dey good at eating cockroaches, dough. I may stuff one of dem wit oysta dressin on Christmas day.

Day 7: Dear Boudreaux, I'm gonna wring yo fool neck next time I see you. Thibeau, da mailman, is ready to kill ya. The merde from all dem birds is stinkin' up his mailboat. He afraid someone will slip on dat stuff and sue him good. I let those seven swans loose to swim on de bayou and some duck hunters from Mississippi blasted dem out of de water. Talk to you tomorrow.

Day 8: Dear Boudreaux, Poor ole Thibeau, he had to make tree trips on his mailboat to deliver dem 8 maids a milkin and dair cows. One of dem cows got spooked by da alligators and almost tipped over da boat. I doan like dem shiftless maids, me no. I tolt dem to get to work guttin fish and sweepin the shack but dey say it wasn't in dair contract. Dey probably tink dey too good ta skin da nutrias I caught las night.

Day 9: Dear Boudreaux, What you trying to do huh? Thibeau had to borrow the Lutcher ferry to carry dem jumpin twits you call Lords-a-Leaping across da bayou. As soon as dey gots here dey wanted a tea break with crumpets. I doan know what dat means but I says, "Well La Di Da. You get Chicory coffee or nuttin." Mon Dieu, Emile. What I'm gonna feed all dese bozos? Dey too snooty for fried nutria, and de cows done eat my turnip greens.

Day 10: Dear Boudreaux, You got to be outs you mind! If de mailman don't kill you, I will fo sho. Today he deliver 10 half nekkid floozies from Bourbon Street. Dey said dey be "Ladies Dancin" but dey doan act like ladies in front of dose Limey twits. Dey almos left after one of dem got bit by a water moccasin over by da out-house. I had to butcher 2 cows to feed toute le monde an had to get toilet paper; The Sears catalog wasn't good enuf fo dose hoity toity Lords' royal behin.

Day 11: Dear Boudreaux, where y'at? Cheerio an pip pip. You 11 pipers piping arrives today from da House of Blues, second lining as dey got off de boat. We fixed snuffed goose and beef jambalaya, finished da whiskey and we havin a fais-do-do. Da new mailman he drink a bottle of Jack Daniel an he's having a good time yeah, dancing with de floozies. Thibeau, he jump off de Sunshine Bridge yesterday, screaming yo name. If you get a mysterious, ticking package in de mail, doan open it.

Day 12: Dear Boudreaux, I sho am sorry to tell ya but I not yer true love anymo, no. After da fais-do-do, I spent de night with Jacque, de head piper. We decide to open a restaurant and gentleman's club on de bayou. The floozies, pardon me, Ladies dancin can make $20 for a table dance, and de Lords can be waiters an valet park de boats. Since de maids doan have no more cows ta milk, I trained dem ta set my crab traps, watch my trotlines, an run my shrimpin business. We probably gonna gross a million clams nex year.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Hello dear readers,

Still feeling a bit down. Fed up of being fed up, etc. Still need to cry out the past month's stress and disappointment, but still oddly detached from it all.

Had an informal chat with my new consultant at one of my best agencies this morning. Bright and early at 9am. It took me nearly an hour and a half to get to Sloane Square from Harrow on the Hill. I spent so long in the train I felt a bit sick...that's a new one. I now dread daily commutes from here. Every creak and lurch of that damn Metropolitan line, and the way it lurks and hides in dark tunnels, and stops in the middle of nowhere for minutes on end...ugh.

So, 75 minutes en route for a 15 minute conversation, which fortunately looks like it will bear fruit, as she had some good permanent positions in mind. Plus after lunch, another called to reserve me for a company that asked for me specifically. Took a bit of reminding, but I remember who they are! How flattering. It's the insurance company where I was handing them back the completed work five minutes before they gave it to me.

So I had two hours to kill before my last lunch with American Boy. I walked slooooowly up Sloane Street, up Knightsbridge to Hyde Park Corner, then along Park Lane, shunning the memory of walking with him there on a couple of warm June evenings; from there down a side street, I was following my nose and ended up, ironically, on Grosvenor Square (America haunts me!). So, I decided to park myself on a bench and rest for a while, respond to some texts from friends, enjoy the sunshine, and watch people. Never tire of watching people; it is good therapy. After a while I popped into Selfridges for the loo, went to L'Occitane en Provence for a sniff of lavender to steady my nerves, and then met him for a quiet lunch.

Gosh, did I mention I miss his voice and that lovely accent already? And the way he says "lovely"? And how he is the perfect height and walks at just the right speed for me?

He is going to be a tough habit to break. I never said that about the others because they were not so intense, and frankly bear no comparison. In fact, the bar has been raised, which is something I thought impossible - having dated a posh, polished near-aristocrat and then having that knocked way out of place by a manly and cultured Southerner. Ha! Take that, English public schoolboys! Captain America was just what I needed [to put some hair on my chest, as he would say] and as I said before, he never judged me for being myself.

Obviously, I am not as sad as I was when I posted last Friday. Thank you all for your encouragement, by the way. Sure I will have my moments, but I think I will recover quicker [or more quickly ;) ] this time than I did 3 years ago. My old Texanisms may never go away now, hm? Oh, I've got the public schoolgirl accent for that Christies crowd anytime, but there is always a little unidentifiable twang that people can't quite figure out, developed when I was 12 and trying hard to lose my proper English accent.

As I said, America haunts me now. Everywhere I turn, she is there. I was going to launch into a diatribe about my building reasons for wanting to go back, but I won't offend you Brits or upset my local friends who read this blog. "You Brits", hehe, I have often noticed that I can disown both sides at will. Ah, but most of you know which side I stand up for every time...always have...

Instead, but still not so far off topic *rolls eyes* I want to share with you my most spectacular Freudian Slip to date, from Moody Minstrel's post about driving into the mountains of Japan for a musical weekend:

Pandabonium said...

Moody said, "forsake riding the bus in favor of driving up myself in my BLUE RAV4"

You can take the American out of the US, but you can't take the US out of some Americans. ;^)

Enjoy the music camp.

7:36 PM

Olivia said...

LOL @ Pandabonium

You can also take the English girl out of America but you can't take the American out of the English girl!

9:11 AM

...Followed immediately by my embarrassed retraction. But then I was rather proud of its greatness and decided not to delete it. :)

There, see? Light at the end of the tunnel. Pretty soon I'll be having you all engaged in witty banter once more.