My Olympic moment: Fetch the Perrier

If you were looking for my blog this morning, you would have been disappointed.
I was in a crabby mood because, for the last few months, Finnigan has been getting me up at 6 a.m. and I'm exhausted. It's not the letting him out part that gets to me. Within six minutes, I have to let him out to pee, give him two food balls, feed Gordie, then let him and Gordie out again.
I swear the little bastard has a stop watch.
Then he barks in my face for 60 minutes straight until Scott wakes up to take him for his walk. I like to relax, have some tea, make the breakfast smoothie, read my Kindle -- which has mysteriously disappeared and I'm suspecting Finn buried it in the backyard -- and then get ready to go to the gym. But Finn has recently raised his own expectations. We've started taking him for long jogs at the Conroy Pit dog park. We don't do it everyday because Scott works and I'm afraid to ride in the car with him alone. But he now thinks he deserves the dog park every morning.
And so he barks this high pitch bark -- he could be one of The Fucking Ten Sopranos, I swear to God -- until I walk him instead of waiting for Scott WHO'S JOB IT IS...
By the way, we get back and he's not satisfied. He doesn't want the once around the park walk, he wants the Walk Around the Hospital Happy Meal.
So there's that.
By the time I was through with him, I went to the gym to blow off some steam around 8:30 a.m.
Where I made a critical error in judgment.
I got interested in the tennis match between Roger Federer and some dude from Argentina whom I have never heard of before. Given Roger's stature, I figured it was a slam dunk and I'd be out of the gym in under an hour.
No way, Jose. That Juan dude was a fighter and they kept going back and forth, each one winning their serve. Tie, tie, tie.
The thing is, I started on the elliptical machine and vowed to stay there until the match was over.
I think you know where this is going.
About an hour in, I couldn't take it anymore and took my shakey ass over to the bike where I peddled for an hour and half until my knees started aching. Then I went back to the elliptical.
Needless to say, I started my Olympic journey at 8:30 a.m. and finished it at 11:30 a.m.
Three hours.
Working out.
WTF?
Truth be told, I was pretty proud of myself.
I arrived home ready for a three eggwhite burito and instead I was treated to four frantic phone calls and eight frantic messages from Scott who needed me to take him to the bank.
When I finally got into the kitchen, I was stared down by Finnigan who by now was PISSED OFF at me.
"Where the hell were you?"
That's what I think he was barking.
For four and a half hours.
As I write this, he has finally fallen asleep after a Federer-sized game of throw the Perrier bottle.
And that, my friends, is my Olympic moment.
I bet Roger Federer doesn't get barked at.
I bet he doesn't have to stop everything to go to the bank.
I bet he has never, not once, been forced to play fetch the Perrier bottle.
Where's my medal?

Ashley Simpson: Conversation with Derek Favell Revealed

On April 2, 2017, a family friend of Ashley Simpson opened her Facebook Messenger and got the surprise of her life. Cathy MacLeod had been trying to correspond with Ashley's boyfriend, Derek Favell, who was the last person to see the St. Catharines native before she disappeared from her home in Salmon Arm, B.C. a year before. She wanted to know more about what happened to Ashley, and why Favell had refused to take a polygraph test when many others close to the missing woman agreed to do so. "I wanted to poke the bear," she said, and sent several messages to Favell pleading with him to talk to her. " Please help us," she wrote. "It's been 10 months of pure hell. A lie detector would help if you have nothing to hide. I beg of you, help us, take the test to clear your name if there’s nothing to hide." Many, including members of the Simpson family, found Derek's behaviour, at least, curious. Ashley had disappeared on April 27, 2016. Yet it took

Ashley Simpson: A Father Remembers

I have asked Ashley Simpson's family and friends to give us a glimpse into the life she lived before going missing nearly a month ago. Here is how her father John remembers his sweet girl. Ashley was a treat when she came into this world, a smashing 9lbs 8 ounces with a head full of hair and nails that needed to be clipped. She has made many friends in her journey of life and continues to make them as we speak. She has made this world a better place by her love of mankind and this place we call Earth; unfortunately this life she has lived hasn't been the best for her. She has suffered through unbearable pain and suffering through her menstrual cycles. She has cysts on her ovaries that make those 10 days a living hell. She had one of her ovaries removed when she was just 14; the other they won't take out till she is 40 or older. Years of hell for my Ashley. I so feel her pain every month but she doesn't quit, doesn't give in. That's my

What Bell isn't telling you about Fibe TV

Update: This week, we switched back to Rogers after spending far too long using Bell's crappy television service. For those with Bell, read and weep. For those considering Bell, think twice even if you hate Rogers. RS I've always been an early technology adapter. I had a Betamax. That tells you everything (if you're over 50 at least). My first computer was a "Portable". It weighed 40 pounds and I had to lug it around town on a gurney. I've been through probably 15 computers in my lifetime. Apple is the best. It's also too expensive so I have a piece of shit HP, the one I'm writing this blog on. I've had cable, internet and now Netflix. American Netflix . That's how far ahead of the curve I am. I get all the newspapers for free. How? I disabled my cookies so they can't track me when I'm on the newspaper sites. Even the New York Times hasn't cottoned on to that trick. Hahaha. That will be a fifty buck consulting fee. Bein

Rose's Cantina

Search This Blog