I am not one of those crazy dog ladies...

I have a boston terrier named Mingus who farts when he runs, which I find endearing and hilarious since his tiny toots are adorably odorless. Recently my darling gaseous pup has been stricken with a disgusting rash that the vet says is most likely a food allergy so I bought him special diet food made by none other than Dick Van Patten (I know right? Who knew the dad from Eight is Enough made specialty dog food!), but as a result of said disgusting rash, he smells like a dirty vagina (my dog, not Dick Van Patten. I have no idea what Dick Van Patten smells like) so I now have to give him a bath once a week with a special medicated shampoo.

Um.....Dick, you may want to consider going into the medicated shampoo business.

He loves taking a bath, (my dog, not Dick Van Patten, I have no idea if Dick Van Patten loves taking a bath) especially when I sing 70's pop tunes to him which I incorporate his name into the lyrics. "Don't you remember you told me you loved me Dinky. You said you'd be coming back again this way Dinky. Dinky Dinky Dinky Dinky oh Dinky.....I love you". I should probably explain that I have made up 32 nick names for Mingus such as: Mingie, Dinky, Dinkus, Dinks, Mingie Dingie, Mayor McDinkey, Dinky Doo and Handsome. He responds happily to every single one.

The Dick Van Patten specialty diet non-allergenic dog food hasn't worked so far, but the vet says it could take a couple of months. So I'm going to have to endure the rank stank emanating from his doggie pits and his pathetic, rashy bald spotted appearance for a while. Fortunately, Mayor McDinkey doesn't seem to mind. He still frolics around the house gleefully unaware of how heinously foul he really is. Unfortunately, he stopped farting when he runs.

"Crazy ass dog lady."

I Blame Country Crock

Hiya housewives! Lets earn our keep and bake some cookies together.

I find kitchen activities to be much more enjoyable (or tolerable) when accompanied by my favorite music so before we begin I'll be cranking up the Bad Brains.

Pull out your trusty Betty Crocker Cook Book and find the one cookie recipe in which you already have every ingredient in your pantry. We wouldn't want to put in the extra effort of going to the grocery store now would we? Hmmmm....Sugar Cookies. Perfect! I have flour, sugar and eggs. Baking soda that has been in the fridge for a year to keep away nasty odors is still good for baking right? Sure...why not. Giant tub of Country Crock counts as margarine or butter right? Of course it does!

Next, measure carefully and dump all of the ingredients into a large bowl. Sifting the dry ingredients then slowly adding the wet can't be that important. Note: Make sure your mixer isn't set on the highest speed......trust me on this one. Once everything is thoroughly mixed lick the beaters, but make sure you do it on the sly or you'll have to share them with your rotten kids.

The directions say to chill the dough for two hours before forming it into one inch balls and dropping them on baking sheets. (*giggle* balls dropping). Hmmm...I don't think the dough needs to be chilled for THAT long. I don't know about you, but I'm in the baking zone now. Thirty minutes ought to do it. Thankfully we don't have to use cookie cutters for this type of sugar cookie because this happy homemaker only has penis shaped ones.

Find your best cookie sheets. Don't use the rusty ones that you insist on cramming in the dishwasher under the assumption that if it fits, it must be dishwasher safe. Roll the incredibly sticky dough into balls *giggle*, cover in sugar and drop them about an inch apart on to the sheet. I think you can probably shove them a little closer together. After all, we don't want to be at this all day. Set the timer on the oven for fifteen minutes, prepare a vodka and coke (or whatever your preferred cocktail is), turn on the tv and watch your stories until you hear the buzzer.

BUZZZZZZ

First batch done and ready to cool! Hmmm...mine kinda grew together into multi-cookie blobs. Oh well, more cookie to love. Remove (scrape) the cookies from the baking sheet with a spatula. Dammit. The first one is sticking pretty good. Lets try a sturdier spatula (maybe a snow shovel). Nope....this batch seems to be holding on for dear life, and crumbling as soon as they're separated from their home to be placed on the cooling rack. SON OF A! Maybe it's the sheet. Yeah, that must be it. The next batch will be perfect.

I think I'll have another cocktail.

Fifteen minutes later. FUCK ME! Cookies are still sticking to the sheet as if that is their sole purpose in life before they disintegrate..................and there is a half a batch waiting to be baked. *face palm*

Fuck it....I'm just going to eat the rest of the dough.

"Me think you're doing it wrong."