DIG THAT HOLE

Mom Adopts a “Dog”

So y’all keep blowing up my notes with the various Family Lore stories I’ve been telling, so I guess I should tell one on my parents now.

My Mother’s Father was part of the United Auto Worker’s Union, and during the 50′s and 60′s, was on strike a lot. My point is, grandpa got himself an entirely deserved reputation for being a sucker who loved animals, so people would dump thier pets on him. Hence, my mother grew up in a house with pets such as Picket the one-eyed tomcat, Tweety the Bald canary, Dummy the cat, Stupid Son of Dummy, Spooky Garbage Dog and Chiquita the Tarantula.  Eventually Grandma put her foot down when Grandpa brought home Gerta the Saint Bernard.

I say all this because it provides some context for how the following occured.

Mom and Dad had just moved in together (my parents dated for six years and were engaged for 13 days, driving everyone on both sides insane), and unfortunately, My mother’s German Shepherd, Cops, has just passed away due to bone cancer.  After mourning for a bit, Mom and Dad decided to get a dog together, as a couple.  

For context, my father had never owned a dog in his life.  His mother had ‘Pretty Bird” the budgie as a child but parrots are alien life forms, not pets.

So they go to the Palo Alto Animal shelter to adopt.  The year was 1987, and at the time, Palo Alto was… not a great place.  Lots of drugs, gangs and poor civic managment.  Mom told me that she learned to identify different types of gunfire while living there. They get there, and mom explains that she’s always had a preference for Big Dogs, and the guy’s face lights up.  Oh Yes, he says, We have a Big Dog.  For expirienced owners, yep, adoptable today, here we’ll give you a discount even-

Somehow my parents were not suspicious about this.

They were shown to the Animal in question, a Gorgeous blue-sable beastie with pretty golden eyes who immediately pressed herself against the fence and gave them the best PUH-LEEEEEEASE TAKE ME HOME puppy eyes 100lbs of canine can do.  Mom and Dad fall in love instantly.  They sign all the paperwork and take her home for $10, and name her “Mazel” as in “Mazel Tov.”

Within the hour, it becomes clear that something is amiss.

Cops had lived with his kibble stored in a plastic garbage can in the garage for six years without incident.  Mazel figured out how to open doors and got the locking lid off the can in six minutes, horking down about four pounds of the stuff before my mother notices that it’s been weirdly quiet.  Most dogs bark at or chase squirrels.  Mazel stalked and caught one the second day, presenting it to my mother like an offering.  Mazel knew all her commands but would clearly stop to consider before obeying, and trained my dad to give her good treats within a week.  The locks on the side-yard gate were undone, and she took a stroll around the neighborhood, but always retuned home for dinner.

After a week of gradually realizing that Mazel was smarter than most of the professors my mom worked with, they took her to the Vet for a routine checkup.

Dr. Hamada walked into the exam room, dropped the clip-board and said “Where the HELL did you get a Wolf?”

After a bit of prodding and a very-angry-dr.hamada-calling-the-pound, they determined Mazel was a high-content hybrid, probably with a husky, but was going to be a lil shit her entire life.  OK, said Hamada, I don’t like destroying animals and you’ve got a lot of expirience with dogs, so I’m okay with letting you keep her, but you should keep her away from small children because her Prey Drive could kick in.

Two years later, mom got pregnant with me.

Mazel noticed instantly, and reacted by digging a large hole in the yard and catching even more squirrels for mom, because she needed the protein or something.  That what you do when the Alpha Bitch is preggers, right?  Dig a den and ply her with food?  On the advice of my grandmother, my mom stayed overnight at the hospital once I was delivered, and dad went home with a shirt that had moms and my scent on it.  Mazel spent the whole night puzzling over it.

The next morning, when mom came home with me, there was the sudden and instantaneous recognition of PUPPY!!!!!! :D:D:D!!!!! PUUUUUUUPPY!!!!!!  and Mazel turned into the most aggressively maternal being I’ve ever met.  Playing with me on the blanket, sitting under my chair at meals (I was a messy eater), sleeping under my crib, teaching me to walk by letting me hang onto her fur and shuffle around.

Dr. Hamada thought mom was a madwoman, until he saw me holding Mazel’s mouth open and sticking my face in so i could look at her teeth.  He gave up when my mom announced she was pregnant with my sister.

I’m making living with a Wolfdog sound awesome, but it did come with some drawbacks:

  • Mazel did have to be muzzled at the vets, because she had Opinions about having things stuck up her butt.
  • HAIR.  One of my chores growing up was to brush her out every week and I’d frequently end up with more hair than animal.
  • the only way we could reliably get her to stay in the yard was with an overhead tether with a STEEL cable, which she chewed through anyway.
  • Do you like waking up by being hit in the face with half a dead animal? No? Wolfdogs may not be for you.
  • More than capable of opening the fridge and eating everything if you’re not watching
  • Will get into everything if not otherwise occupied.  Including eating your tax forms.
  • Howls along with sirens at 4 AM.

PROS of growing up with a wolfdog, as a small child in the 90′s

  • I was afforded a degree of freedom normally associated with a pokemon trianer. It was no big deal for me and my sister to walk three miles through my not-really-good neighborhood to the Froyo if I took Mazel with us. People tended to leave us alone when we had 100lbs of overprotective Apex Predator following us around.
  • WINNING at Pet Day at school.  There wasn’t actually a compettion but Billy’s hamster sucks in comparison to an animal that is perfectly willing to demonstrate how she can snap an oak branch in half on command.
  • PTA moms losing their shit because Mazel would walk down the block by herself to come pick ups up from school.
  • Grew up associating the word “Bitch” with teeth and the willingness to rip an asshole’s face off for being rude.  Never changed the definition.
  • Learned the I-Own-This Strut and Murder-Stare from the absolute best.

When she was 17, Mom and Dad decided to add another room on to the house.  They rigged up the overhead tether so she could be outside but not underfoot for the contruction guys.  One morning, mom came out to notice them all milling in the side yard entrance, muttering worriedly.  When mom asked what was wrong, one of them explained that Carlos forgot to bring the Hamburger.  What do you need a hamburger for?  Asked mom, and they pointed down the side yard to where Mazel was sitting, doing her best Viscious Alpha Bitch Stare.

Apparently they’d never realized that she was on the VERY end of her tether there and couldn’t actually get to them, and had been scamming them for a big mac a day for a month.  Mom had my six-year-old sister pull her away to show she wasn’t dangerous and tired her best not to laugh but kind of failed.

Mazel ended up living to be 19 and a half, and except for some minor arthritis, remarkably hale until the day she passed away in her hole in the back yard while taking a nap.  I maintain that Death had to wait until she was sleeping to get a crack at her, or she would’ve taken his scythe for a chew toy.

so like new game plan: i don’t go to college, and instead, just start digging a giant hole with my hands in my backyard, call it performance art, gain notoriety, and keep doing it until i reach the earth’s core. sound good? great.

3

Ok so I have had this AU idea of like…. grumpy hermit gay mess Hanzo who basically looks like his hair is the pelt fur from his lone wolf skin because he could not care any less of how he looks, and he is that one neighbor who’s an asshole and never says hi or anything and lets his hellhound of a pomeranian go to other people’s yards and destroy them or shit on them.

He probably works from home and avoids all human contact that’s not necessary, except Genji because he is his lil bro! he only goes out when grocery shopping or to pay bills or hit the gym (look at those guns and pecs )

This Hanzo also sports the piercings he has in the winter comic and more less dresses up with the same style of clothes?? when he goes out that is, most of the time he just wears tshirts and sweatpants.

This becomes a McHanzo AU when Jesse moves in next door and finds Hanzo’s dog digging a hole on his lawn and decides to take it back to its owner and when Hanzo sees him he just “???????????? wow im gay af ??????????” 

Basically this AU is Hanzo being the one smitten by McCree and trying to get close to him but being too socially awkward to do it properly and having like bad timings and freaking out and going back inside his house whenever he feels he has fucked up to which Jesse is oblivious and just thinks Hanzo is an interesting guy. 

Hanzo tries to make it clear how gay he is without saying it by always using his Im gay mug that Genji gave to him as a joke…..just…boy….pls….Genji teases him to no end and as a way to encourage him, Genji says he will go after Jesse if Hanzo doesnt do anything about it which Hanzo is very aware could happen in the blink of an eye knowing how efficient his lil bro is when it comes to flirting with people, the guy has some unreal skills for dating.

but yeah thats all I got….. basically this is me wanting more McHanzo from Hanzo´s point of view, and having him less…uhh…far away and mysterious about his feelings? I want him being an awkward mess.

okay thats all Im sorry.

Bonus:

2

The Hunchback of  Notre dame - Frollo Grapes

“Buenos Dias Esmeralda” - Frollo

WHAT YOU’LL NEED

  • Grapes

HOW TO MAKE IT

1. Before planting bare root vines, soak the roots in water for 3-4 hours. At planting, remove all canes except the most vigorous one. Plant vines with the lowest bud on the cane just above the soil surface. Trim off any broken or excessively long roots. Dig a hole large enough to you can spread the root system out then cover the roots completely with soil. Mulching is not usually recommended for grapes because mulch will moderate the soil temperature, often keeping it cooler in warmer months, and grape vines grow best in warmer soil.

After planting, water the vines regularly throughout the first year. The root system needs to grow and establish to allow for shoot growth in the first year. 

Grapevines need some type of support or they will trail along the ground. The support can be an arbor covering a patio for shade, or can be as simple as a post in the ground to support the trunk of the vine. Grapevines can also be grown along an existing fence. Virtually any type of support structure will do, provided it is sturdy. Grape vines grow quickly and get quite heavy.

Once the trunk has reached as high as you want, and the lateral trunks have been formed, prune the vine each spring before growth begins so the developing canes have enough air movement around them to reduce diseases. There are many different methods and techniques for training vines; we recommend you experiment with pruning vines to make them an integral part of your landscape. Remember, fruit is produced on the current season’s growth, that in turn grows from last season’s wood. Heavy pruning provides the best fruit. Light pruning results in large yields of poor-quality fruit; very heavy pruning produces too much vegetative growth and very little or no fruit. 

The best way to tell if grapes are ripe is to taste a few. Many cultivars turn color before they are ripe. To harvest, clip full clusters off the vine with pruning shears or heavy scissors. Handle clusters carefully; remove any discolored, injured, or undesirable berries; and then cool them as soon as they are picked. 

Follow for more simple & easy Disney recipes!

For @frollosuggestions

I'm a simple woman. I dig my hole

I get home from work every night and go out back and tunnel into the earth with my bare hands just like any other good and god fearing citizen

Magic Works (aka STORY TIME)

Sit down, witches young and old.  I have a story to share.

So, in late Summer 2014, I was held at gunpoint and my car was stolen.  Without going into too much detail, I was out at night running errands and two masked men cornered me in the parking lot of my apartment complex.  (The Mister was not with me at the time; he was in the apartment.)  In the trunk of my car was my witchy box, which contained ALL of my most important craft materials including my book of shadows, my tarot, and my most beloved trinkets.  (I had taken it on a witchy retreat the weekend before.)

When they stole my car, they used it in a bank robbery and then ditched the vehicle after use.  I was DEVASTATED.  I couldn’t sleep or eat for days (trauma can be an absolute bitch); I was terrified to go out on my own, even on our porch.  I lost my job because I no longer had a means of transportation.  And to top it off, I ended up having a miscarriage around the same time.

Guys and gals, I went to a very dark place after this.  The police, as helpful as they were, told me that the likelihood of finding the vehicle was slim-to-none.  In fact, it is common in most places (and especially my state) that stolen vehicles are dumped in rivers or ravines, never to be found again.  What made matters worse was that I had JUST PAID THE CAR OFF and SWITCHED MY INSURANCE TO LIABILITY ONLY.  (For you bebes out there that don’t know, this means that your insurance company won’t replace the car if it is stolen.)

For months, I tried to dig myself out of this hole, but I felt like I couldn’t really connect with my craft because I was missing important elements to my spellwork.  Some of the things in that box were passed down for generations in my family.  They were absolutely priceless.  I felt so…lost.

The following May, I was visiting Tulum, Mexico.  A tropical storm was brewing off the shoreline and everyone else was drunk at one of the all-inclusive bar.  I watched from my balcony as surfers took to the turbulent waves and something came over me.  I felt a literal pull in my chest.  Something kept telling me to go to the water.

My family, friends, and the Mister all told me I was crazy when I went to the beach.  There was thunder, the waves were insanely high, and even the experienced surfers were having trouble.  On the lifeguard stands, black flags were posted (one of the signs that swimming is absolutely ill-advised) and for even an experienced competitive swimmer (that’s me!), it would be dangerous. But something told me to get into the water.

Nothing could have prepared me for the power of the ocean.  It pulled me when I resisted; it dragged against every limb and I became frightened.  But instead of thinking about the fact that I could possibly drown, I kept replaying those guys and their guns pointed at me, one shoved into my forehead.  I became angry; I kicked harder, pushed myself further until I felt the sand at my toes again.

I was crying and so angry.  I stood still in the water and called out into the wind.  I beat my fists against the surface of the sea (I probably looked insane, but no one was out there) and felt all of my pain seep away.  I begged the water for one thing: even if the car didn’t run, could my precious things be returned to me.  I bartered with the sea.

The sea giveth and the sea taketh away, as they say.  All of the hurt and terror and anguish I had felt over the previous year disappeared.  I was embraced by the water and somewhere so very deep inside me, I knew everything would be okay.  There was finally a sense of calm and clarity inside me, replacing the tumultuous emotions I had been feeling.

The morning we left, after the storms had passed, I went back to that secluded part of the beach and promised that I would dedicate my life to helping witches around me.  I had never made a promise like that in my life.

A month after that, the state police found my car.  It wasn’t in working condition at all, but everything remained intact in the trunk.  They brought it to my parents’ house and I rushed outside.  I sobbed when my dad opened the trunk and saw the box waiting, looking the exact same way it did the night the car was stolen.  Everything was in it, untouched by the elements.  (Eventually, I repaired the car enough for it to run another two-and-half-years, too!)

Magic is real.  Against impossible odds, there is power in every wish and desire.  I will never regret the promise I made that day.  I will never take for granted the gifts that have been given to me.  And when people scoff when I say that I am a witch, I inwardly smile and know that my magic is true and real.  I have all the proof I need.

8

Quirks: The idiosyncrasies of DBK : 
The Chemical Brother’s T-shirts

“Dig Your Own Hole” t-shirt

This is a promotional tee for The Chemical Brother’s album titled by the same name and released 1997.

Dylan can be seen wearing this shirt:

• At Devon’s 16th birthday party

• Dylan’s ‘98 Junior class photo

• Filming the Pulp Fiction” video shoot w/ Dustin Gorton

• Sitting behind Blackjack’s talking

• Walking down steps on building unknown

It is presumed that this shirt was sold at TCB’s Dig Your Own Hole Tour ‘97 (and that Dylan attended - probably with his best friend, Zack, and purchased both the ‘Dig Your Own Hole’ and “Setting Sun” prom t-shirts at the April 29 1997 concert held at the Ogden Theatre in Denver, CO.) 

On 7 April 1997 The Chemical Brothers released their second album,
‘Dig Your Own Hole’ which is classified as genre style: Big beat,  electronica and psychedelia

Listen to the Full Album on youtube:

Index of ALL of Dylan’s (publicly known)  t-shirts

— off limits | 01 (m)

pairing— kim seokjin x reader
genre/warnings— smut, dirty talk, dom! Jin, just dirty, dirty sex that my heart can’t take
words— 11,158

:: summary— you’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

 » 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 :: 07 ::

Keep reading

what i thought when i watched  “ a date with markiplier “ video

  • BONJOUR 
  • wait … we can choose our story 
  • wow … i actually have a valentine date this year 
  • that chef does not look friendly 
  • WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MARK AND MONEY IN THIS GOD DAMN DATE 
  • romance or horror ? you mean love or death right 
  •  looks like i am gonna spend the rest of the day finding all the endings
  • oops i accidentally killed mark
  • well looks like dark is my date now
  • DON’T DO THAT WITH YOUR NECK MISTER  
  • wait .. is that Tyler with mark on his face ? 
  • wait whAt ?!? nooo i wanted to marry mark for real 
  • could you imagine dating mark ? 
  • nice pony tail mark 
  • LET . HIM . DIG . THE . GOD . DAMN . HOLE 
  • it litterily 10 min of this , help 
  • “ let me see what in your pants “ “ excuse me ? “ 
  • wow i actually killed someone 
  • “ looks like you choose wrong “  “ naaah i’m good “ 
  • sooooo are we gonna talk about tyler’s ass ? 
  • oops killed mark again 
  • FIRST RULE OF HORROR MOVIES : never . split . up 
  • am i the only one who tapped the screen like an idiot 
  • did i mention i killed mark 
  • wait , i am  allergic to peanut butter AND tuna , HEELP 
  • OMG WARFSTACHE IS BACK !!!! 
  • DAMN IT ! i knew i was a dog all along 
  • *sigh* what the hell was in that dinner 
@markiplier

Everytime theres a callout post about JonTron, and how he’s racist or whatever theres always comments like “Meh im still gonna keep watching his content” and i just kinda whisper what content, he posts at the same frequency Donald Trump has a point, which is to say fucking never