Well I hope the cat videos were worth it once Skynet takes over

Well, it's the end of 2013, the time when a dog takes a look back at the events of the last twelve months and tries to piece together some sort of sense out of the whole mess.

Except that I'm not going to do that because I've got something else on my mind.

For Christmas my dad got me a really pretty nice flat screen TV.  This was pretty cool in and of itself, but on further inspection I discovered that it was something called a 'Smart TV' (which is a bit disturbing in and of itself - I don't like to imagine my household appliances sitting around 'thinking' things.  Partially because of the ethical issues involved in subjugating them, but mostly because any television that had access to both a reasoning process and my list of DVR'd TV shows would almost certainly begin judging me sooner rather than later.)

I was even more disturbed upon going through the setup screens to discover a bit of copy that explained that the TV was capable of learning as it interacted with me.  Jesus Christ.  Not only does this make me solely responsible for shaping the perceptions and worldview of the thing, it means that we have deliberately set up a machine (which I'm pretty sure was smarter than me to begin with) with the ability to increase that knowledge and power of reasoning and I'm pretty sure that that course leads directly to Terminators.

Not that I'm against the whole concept of machines taking over from man in general principle.  I can't imagine a  machine doing a worse job of governing than - say - Mitch McConnell.*  Hell, I'd willingly replace him with your average waffle iron any day of the week.  At least the waffle iron wouldn't get so caught up with petty vindictiveness that it would prefer to actively damage the country rather than let anyone else have their way.  Plus - waffles.  Mmmm.  Waffles.

*Note for foreign readers - You'll probably just have to take my word on this one.  And honestly, you're happier not knowing anything about him, I promise.

Vizsla, It's cold outside

When I woke up this morning it was -11 degrees outside.  (that's Fahrenheit, for you European types.  I believe it translates to about 23.8 bar below zero.  Yes, The Vizsla is not afraid to do the math.  Or use the correct terms for a repeating remainder.  Suck it, Air Bud.)

This has temporarily delayed my post-holiday round-up so that I can address the following crucial issue.

I know a lot of you are saying to yourself - 'Self, I sure love the midwinter holiday appropriate to my cultural background.  But I sure wish that I had a song relevant to that culturally derived Holiday that was a little less date-rapey than the now standard 'Baby it's cold outside'  (Seriously.  Nothing says Christmas like a random mention of Roofies.)

To that end, I present an alternate take.

You are, as always, Welcome, Universe.

Vizsla, It's cold outside.

an internal monologue.

I really must pee

<Vizlsa, it's cold outside>

I'm all urine-y 

<Vizlsa, it's cold outside>

Tonight's Alpo has been

<Been hoping you'd like a milkbone>

So very nice

<Who wants to slip out on that ice?>

My Mother'd have to put on boots

<Maybe it's just the toots>

My Father won't clean the floor

<You won't have no acc'dents no more>

And really my legs are crossed

<bladder control ain't yet lost>

Well, maybe just a snausage more...

<Make some yeti noises some more>

I kind of must poop

<But Vizsla it's cold outside>

My hinder must droop

<but Vizsla it's cold outside

I wish I knew how

<you're eyes are really floating now>

To use the john*

<That rug - I must not tinkle on>

I ought to sack up and brave it

<Those booties just drive my crazy>

My paws they always get so frosty

<Can't you see the battle is lost-y>

I really can't hold it

<Baby don't hold it>

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh

but daddy...

It was COOOOOOLLD  OUUUUUUUT.  SIIIIIIIIIDE

Thank you.  God bless.  Tip your wait staff.

Merry Christmas from the Vizsla

...let's just agree to call this Advent Calendar day 23,24 and 25 and refer to this as a growth year.

That cool with everybody?

And what was the kid supposed to be learning exactly?

Today I was out and about, finishing up my Christmas shopping and in a burst of trying to be slightly less bitter toward the holiday I found myself listening to a station playing Christmas carols.

This was all well and good (if only marginally successful) until they played a song that related the following story - (I do not know the name of the song nor the Artist.  To be honest I don't particularly care on either front)

So this guy (the singer) is standing in line waiting to pay for Christmas presents when the kid in front of him tries to buy a pair of shoes.  Cue heartbreaking story about how they're 'just Momma's size' and he wants her to look pretty when she goes to 'meet Jesus tonight.'

Yes, apparently Momma has some sort of long term fatal illness and is not expected to last the night.

Which apparently prompted Daddy to drop the kid off unsupervised at the mall, which seems like questionable parenting to me, but what the Hell.  He probably just has other things on his mind, what with the spouse dying on Christmas Eve thing going on.  I would, however, like to have seen the conversation where he tells the attending physician that he's popping out from dying wife's bedside to drop junior off at the foodcourt.

I also enjoy the implication that as soon as Momma snuffs the candle (as they say) that the following exchange will occur-

MOMMA  

Yoo hoo!  Jesus!  I finally made it!

JESUS  

Hey there Betty Lou!  

It's great to see y... holy shit those are some GREAT shoes!

MOMMA 

I know, right??  I mean, I can't normally pull off a court heel

JESUS  

Oh NO, girlfriend*!  You are rocking that court heel!

*Yes, in my mind Jesus is played by a drag queen.  Go back and re-read Mark and tell me that doesn't make it more fun.

So anyway, the song goes on to tell how the kid tries to pay for the shoes with an assload of pennies, and of course he doesn't have enough.  And so he turns to the guy behind him in line (Our protagonist, for those following along) and asks, 'What am I gonna do?  Momma needs these shoes?'*

*No, what Momma needs is probably more along the lines of a new kidney, but again, what the Hell-  he's just a kid.  Kids get strange ideas stuck in their head.  Besides which, I think that there's a fair argument to be made that the whole story is crap, and that the kid is just working the whole situation and knows damn well that the sucker behind him is going to pay for the shoes if he spins him a sad enough story.  Which makes you wonder what he was actually planning to do with the shoes....

So of course our 1st person narrator chokes up, buys the shoes for the kid, and then makes the following reflection-

'I'm sure God sent the kid to me to remind me what Christmas is really about.'

Yes.

He assumes that God killed this kid's mom just to give him a warm holiday fuzzy.

See, now this is my problem with organized religion 

Dear Santa: A Cease and Desist Order

S. Claus
North Pole

Stinson McDonald
Attorney at Law
Legal Representative of

Stevie Horsebladder
Grade 4

Named Representative of Class Action Proceedings


Mr. Claus

Be you hereby duly notified of a motion to Cease and Desist filed on behalf of Stevie Horsebladder (hereby referred to as Plaintiff A) and 432 other parties, ages 3-11.

You are immediately ordered to cease any and all surveillance activities not duly authorized by the Government of the United States of America including but not limited to:  Knowing if they are sleeping.  Knowing if they are awake.  Knowing if they have been bad or good.

You are further required to surrender and/or destroy any or all records pertaining to any all information collected over the course of any previous observation activities.

It is duly found by the State of Minnesota that you are baselessly 'judge-y' and your arbitrary standards by which you rate relative perceived 'good'ness or 'bad'ness fail to conform to any legal international standards of applicability.

We appreciate your immediate response to this matter.

Stinson McDonald

Atty at Law

It ain't Peace on Earth, but I'll take it

Two weeks ago, my windshield wiper fluid jets stopped working.

No matter how many times- or how forcefully- I might pull that lever by the steering wheel, they would steadfastly refuse to spray any windshield wiper fluid onto the windshield of my car.

On the off chance that some of the readership lives in sensible climates, I should explain.  Here in Minnesota (that's one of the States in the middle.  A little bit North and West of Chicago, if that helps at all) when it snows and the roads get icy (which is a not-insignificant percentage of the year) the City, State or County (depending on location) responds by putting down salt (or variant thereof) to melt the ice.  Except the City of St. Paul, who have apparently decided that they're too good for that kind of thing and would rather just have a ton of avoidable accidents.

The salt (or whatever chemical these, our modern roadway scientist have substituted) does a reasonable job of keeping the roads less 'kill-me-able', however they also do a really great job of accumulating on the windshield of your car in and rendering it completely opaque .08 seconds after entering the freeway.  Hence the need to keep constantly refilling your windshield wiper fluid reservoir for several months.

Now, it should be fairly common knowledge that I'm not heavy into automotive repair.  And so, when my car decided - the very next morning after this years first big snowfall- that it simply wasn't going to be dispensing any windshield wiper fluid this year I treated it as I would any automotive problem.

I stared at it blankly for a few minutes and then went inside and had a glass of wine.

So for two full weeks after that I spent every commute peering desperately through vague half shadows on the front windscreen, stopping at gas stations every couple of miles to wipe off the current layer of crap and desperately hoping that I might be able to tell the difference between 'off ramp' and 'oncoming semi' by the quality of salt-shadow that they threw.

It was therefore with some surprise that I accidentally hit the windshield washer fluid lever this afternoon and was greeted by an enthusiastic - nay - sprightly jet of fluid.  From both jets.  Full force.

I have no idea why they weren't working before, and I have even less idea why they've suddenly started working again.  Lacking any better explanation, I'm declaring it to be my Christmas Miracle.

That's the key to Happy Holidays people -

Ridiculously low standards.

Happy Advent Calendar day 20.

The Seemy Underbelly of Christmas Carols

So I was listening to the radio this morning when they played 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus'*

*Yes, for the two of you who wonder about such things, this was on MPR.  Cathy Wurzer does a music cue between segments towards the end of the morning show.  Big shout out to Cathy while I'm mentioning her.

Now, I'm going to go on the assumption that we're all at least passingly familiar with the song at this point.  If you're not you should google it now and come back when you've given it a listen.

Back?

OK, I'll go on.

Now, obviously the joke is that the kid singing the song (that'd be the '1st person narrator' for you pretentious academic types) doesn't realize that.... oh Crap... wait a second...

SPOILER ALERT

UNDER 11'S SHOULD STOP READING NOW

The kid doesn't realize that 'Santa' isn't real and that that is clearly Daddy in a Santa costume and his kissing Mommy is not particularly notable but for this comical misunderstanding.

I'm sorry you had to find that out here.

My point is that the Kid in question does not know this.  So we have to view his responses through that filter

And this is all well and good until we get to the end of the chorus, where the lyrics take a disturbing turn-

'What a laugh it would have been

If Daddy had only seen

Mommy kissing Santa Claus last niiiiiiight'

OK, what the Hell are we supposed to make of that?? (outside of the fact that with a Midwestern American accent 'Been' and 'Seen' don't rhyme in any way whatsoever - but that's not relevant right now)

Theory One -

The kid hates Daddy.  Possibly Daddy is abusive, or just didn't buy him a Playstation or something.  You know, something that would piss kids off.   The kid is wistfully longing for Daddy to be there to see Mommy's painful betrayal, perhaps hoping to gorge himself on the feast of Daddy's heartbroken tears.

Take THAT, Daddy.  Mommy's a 'Ho.  Bet you wish you'd bought me that Wii now, don't ya.

Theory Two -

The kid loves Daddy.  But Daddy is hopelessly trapped in a loveless marriage to Mommy.  Perhaps Mommy is abusive to Daddy.  Or just doesn't put out.  Or hasn't aged well.  Whatever.  Daddy longs for a divorce so that he can find a younger, prettier Mommy, but his strict Catholic upbringing forbids such a thing without due cause.  Can this be Daddy's hope?  Finding Mommy macking with an anthropomorphic personification of yuletide generosity?  Hot Damn!  Daddy struck Christmas Ho Gold!

Theory Three - 

The kid is a sociopath and just wants to revel in destruction. 



Regardless of which horse you pick in this particular race, we have to acknowledge that - laugh or no - Daddy is not there to witness this scene of Holiday Slut-Shaming. (as far as the kid knows).  I therefore present to you the inevitable conversation being had the next day-

KID:  Daddy, can I talk to you?

DADDY:  Sure, Son or possibly daughter.  What's on your mind?

KID:  Daddy, there's something I need to tell you.  I think you should sit down.

DADDY:  Gosh this sounds serious.

KID:  Dad, there's no easy way to tell you this, so I'm going to abandon the infantile variant on your title and talk to you man or possibly woman to man.

DADDY:  Done and Done.

KID:  Dad, have you ever noticed Mommy talking about... you know... any specific holiday figures...you know... in a way that might strike one as... possibly lascivious?

DADDY:  Where the Hell did you learn the word 'lascivious'?

KID:  Dad, Mom's giving it up Christmas style.  I saw the whole thing.

DADDY:  I'm sorry, what?

KID:  He put his present in her stocking Dad.  Right there.  Right under the tree you paid for.

and it only gets uglier from there.

In Memorium

The world lost a wonderful Lab yesterday.

Normal service will resume tomorrow

Everybody should go adopt a rescue dog right now.

Not exactly a flashback - Vizsla vs. the Harvard Acapella Chorus

Not exactly new, but not exactly a flashback, Welcome to Advent Calendar Day 15

In case you are ever cornered in a dark alley by somebody with a knife, and you're not sure if it's me or the Harvard Men's Acapella Chorus, here's a quick field guide-

This is the Harvard Acapella Chorus

This is Me

(for those looking to declare a winner, Sure they have presentation, style, wardrobe and sobriety on their side.  But I did write the song.)

Vizsla FTW.

Advent Calendar Day 14 - A Holiday Cryptoquip

For those who are not aware of them, Cryptoquips are - perhaps - the lamest form of puzzle known to man.

It's a simple one to one alphabet code (a=k, that sort of thing) beloved of secret decoder rings throughout the ages.  This particular manifestation shows up in newspapers next to the cartoons and crossword, and decoding it reveals what is inevitable one of the stupidest and least funny puns you will have ever heard - made incrementally worse by the awareness that you've just spent 15 minutes of your life actually putting in an effort to be able to read it.  It's the puzzle page equivalent of driving 20 miles out of your way to find someone who will be willing to punch you in the testicles.  Although still not as horrible as paying money to watch Forrest F***ing Gump.*

*I have long held that every single person involved in the making of that film should be beaten to death with a VHS copy.  Well... Except maybe Gary Sinese.  He's suffered enough.

And so, in the festive holiday spirit-

A Vizsla Holiday Cryptoquip!

DEZRE CED BGLQTU RG HNVR IYEOVZP DGQQTL CFTZ FT CED UVEPZGDTU CVRF 'AVDRYT-RGT'.  GF OTEF, RFER'D LVPFR - V CTZR RFTLT, KVRQFTD.

Your clue - E= A

WVMDYE GNR

Dispatches from the Front - Inside the War on Christmas

<The following being an excerpt from the official report submitted by Col. Frank 'Killer' Koepke, 2nd Battalion Commander of the 403rd Infantry Unit - aka the Rudolph Flayers>

December 13th, 2013
Official Report
Operation 'Ass-Cane'

13:45  403rd Dispatched to area of reported 'Celebration of Christmas'.  On arrival in outer perimeter heard distinct sound of someone saying 'Merry Christmas' instead of a non-specific holiday greeting.  Specialist Hayle dispatched to stab speaker in throat. 

14:10  Unit arrived on scene of Fendleson Home.  Observed Christmas tree in front window.

14:13 Called for air support.

14:16  Fendleson Home hit with tactical nuclear strike.

Report ends

Advent Calendar Day 12. Day 12. Day 12.

Advent Calendar Day 12!

<This was a message from future you about some things that are about to happen>

<But then that destabilized the entire causal nexus and slightly further in the future you had to come back and redact the post.>

<What I'm saying is that this is really all your fault.>

You'll have to imagine the cut out letters from magazines.

Dear Advent Calendar Day 11

We have Advent Calendar Day 10.

If you ever want to see Advent Calendar Day 10 again,  well... you're out of luck since time moves in a linear progression.

Unless you're a Time Lord of course, in which case attempting to blackmail you is probably a poorly thought out course of action.

Please disregard

Love,

No one in particular.

An Advent Calendar Day 9 Choose Your Own Adventure

In tribute to those books from the 80s - The 42nd Vizsla presents -

A Very Vizsla Choose your own holiday Adventure

1

You wake up in a strange forest where there is very little light except for a thin, pale shaft of moonlight through the canopy of leaves above you.  You here a faint music playing in the distance.

If you go looking for the source of the music, got to 3

If you decide to explore the forest instead, go to5

2 

You get eaten by a bear

3

You get eaten by a bear

4

Go to 2

5 

Did you notice that bear over there? 

If Yes go to 4

If No go to 2


We hope you've enjoyed this special holiday adventure.

Be sure to try reading it again.  Remember, every adventure is different!

The great Advent Calendar/Flashback Day Mish-mash

You know that thing where you start to write a column for the day and you think to yourself, 'My this seems vaguely familiar.', and then you realize that you wrote about this exact same thing nearly a year ago?

Yeah.  That.

Advent Calendar Day 8 - One from the vaults-

What Vizslas know about holidays:

Now, I'll be the first to admit that Vizslas are not exactly a comprehensive source of information about human holidays.

That said, I have managed to piece together a pretty fair picture of what I think is going on:

The one with the tree

Which is celebrated with three solid days of cleaning and fighting about money - Then pie.

The one with the Ham

The same as Treeday, except instead of fighting about money this one is traditionally celebrated by yelling at the Vizsla for tracking in mud

The one with the turkey

Cleaning, rolling in some leaves, then sleeping in front of football.

That day we drink a lot of wine

This holiday is celebrated a lot at our house.

Seriously, this must be a REALLY important one to people.

And while I kind of don't understand Treeday, Hamday, Turkeyday and Wineday(s), at least their customs are readily observable for the interested dog to note so that they might be more prepared to eat even greater amounts of Ham/Turkey/Meatloaf the following year.  (Meatloaf is the traditional Treeday dinner.  Don't know why.  Possibly in memory of Saint Meat.  Or possible Saint Loaf.)

Then there are the smaller less-about-giving-people-food-to-the-vizlsa holidays.

There are things called 'birthday's which even we dog-kind get to celebrate.  The border healer just had his first one the other day and as a celebration we were all given several chicken flavor carvers, which are (barring ham) just about the best thing ever.  People generally receive cards and gifts on their 'birthday's but in that dogs generally don't read or need stuff, I'm happier with our traditions

Then there are some holidays that people celebrate by nothing more than just not getting out of bed in the morning (Something that I choose to view as an oblique tribute to vizslas, as we totally ROCK at not getting out of bed)  There's something called presidents day, which seems to commemorate a sale.  And 4th of July, which I personally am not a fan of because everything becomes chemically unstable and liable to explode as the day goes on, and if you bark to daddy to point this out he gets irritable.

But this most mysterious of all the just-stay-in-bed holidays is this thing called 'Sickday'

So far all I've managed to piece together about it is that one traditionally begins the celebrations with a congratulatory phonecall to one's employer, commemorating the occasion.  (so it's possibly something to do with secretaries day..?) And then either laying down on the bed or the couch, whereupon one watches lots and lots of Doctor Who.

As holiday's go, it's pretty low key, but I do have to mention that the traditional sick day meal (Chicken noodle soup out of a can heated in the microwave and ginger ale on ice) SUCKS when compared to Hamday or Turkeyday meals.

And get this - No one even comes by with a card or gifts!

I know, right?

And attempting to pep up the Sickday celebrations with a little tug the rope or ballplay (easy there shriner!) is NOT looked upon favorably.

Also, this being a holiday, I think it's reasonable to assume that there was some pleasantly non-offensive pagan holiday on the date and the early christian church co-opted it with their feast day to Saint Sick because it was easier to just pretend that everybody was celebrating their holiday instead of going to all the effort of creating something positive or productive of their own.  But I'm really just playing the odds there.

I still say there should be cards and gifts though

Vizsla out

Advent Calendar Day 7 - A quick Christmas song reference pack

In a pinch?

Need a Christmas tune to suit a specific mood but don't have one to hand?

Not to worry - As always, we've done the work for you.

Here we present a go-to guide for holiday tuneage. 

Please forgive our usage of the word 'tuneage'.

We have a minimum annual DB vocab requirement, and are coming up short this year

Thanks, Brah.

A sentimental and really good Christmas song.

A really geeky and amusing Christmas song.

A song that is in no way about Christmas.

Unless you feel the holidays should be more 'date-rapey'.  

And yet people insist on treating it like a holiday classic

A song celebrating shitty weather.

Gratuitous self-promotion.  

Plus cows.

A scathing indictment of modern consumerism.  

But to be fair, Eartha Kitt had it goin' on.

That Christmas Suicide anthem you've been looking for.

You're Welcome, world. 

Lates

Advent Calendar Day 6 - The Mysterious Case of the Disappearance of Advent Calendar Day 5

From the Journals of Dr. John Watson.  (the proper Martin Freeman one.  Not Lucy Liu.  Never Lucy Liu)

It was then, as thunder crashed outside the drawing room windows, that we gathered around the numerous settees to listen as Benedict Cumberbatch outlined the facts of this, the most curious case of the Disappearing Day 5 of the Advent Calendar.

Benedict Cumberbatch began, 'I've gather you here this evening to outline the facts of this most curious case of th....'

'Yes Holmes,' I interrupted, 'I already said that in the lead paragraph'

'Quite', he retorted, throwing me an irritable look over those cheekbones that just go on for days and days and.. what was I talking about again...

'Balderdash!', ejaculated General Armstrong.  Which was still a totally legitimate verb at the time and nothing to be chuckled at - I'm looking at you, in the back.

'Our Case begins', Bennie C began again, 2 days ago on Advent Calendar day 4.  A day whose post - while actually existing - can only be accurately described as 'perfunctory'

'By Jove,' expostulated Lady Thistlewait from her hiding place behind the wainscoting.  'I thought it was a lovely post, in the spirit of advent calendars from all times.  It mentioned Candy and everything.  In big letters!'

'Poppycock. Lady Thistlewait.'  retorted B-Cum.  'Unadulterated poppycock.  He was clearly phoning it in that day.  And I'll thank you to never refer to me as 'B-Cum' again.  Not even in the supporting text.'

'Great Scott!' Ejaculated General Armstrong.  Fortunately he was wearing loose pants and no one noticed.

'No,' continued Benedict. 'The mystery truly began no less than twenty four hours later.  On a day in which, despite a clear precedent for such things being set, no Advent Calendar Post appeared.'

'Perhaps he was just busy at work!'  proclaimed the young Miss Devesham.

'It was probably Moriarty!' countered Professor Butternut.

'But which Moriarty?' wailed little Cora, 'The classic intellectual Moriarty of the written Canon, or the new, young Kooky Moriarty.  You know, the one played by John Sims'

'No No No,' blustered the Spinster Emily Pinwerthy.  'John Sims played the new Master on Doctor Who.  Moriarty was Andrew Scott.  You're just getting them confused because they're both very similar radical new takes on established villains within a larger storyline'

'Oh, right... right.' nodded Little Cora.  "You're right.  How foolish."

'It could,' chimed in the Great Plimsazio, 'Be that guy who writes film reviews under the name Moriarty for Ain't it Cool News'

'No,' Countered Miss Devesham, 'He writes for a different site now under his real name, Drew McWeeney'

'Seriously?' Spluttered the Colonel, 'His name is Seriously 'McWeeney??'

'Maybe that's why he's angry and stole yesterday's Advent Calendar post' suggested Valentina Ocipovna.

'Perhaps we should all just calm down and let B-Cu... I mean, Mr. Cumberbatch explain what really happened.' Someone tentatively put forward.

'No.  Nevermind.'  Benedict Cumberbatch said mulishly.  'It's too late.  I'm not going to tell you anymore.'

Advent Calendar - Day 4

It's CANDY!!

By which I mean you should go get a piece of that candy you like and eat it right now.  

Because you totally deserve it.

Tell them the Vizsla said it was OK

Seasoning's Greetings

I recently made a hotdish.*

*Note to everyone not in Minnesota.  This is what we call a casserole.  We also say Duck, Duck, Grey Duck instead of Goose.  Welcome to our funny little culture.

There is nothing particularly notable about this (although I am not widely noted for my cooking skills) except that the hotdish I made called for a half teaspoon of curry.  Which was delicious and really made the whole recipe pop.In fact, I don't recall ever enjoying eating a hot dish more.

Which is more than can be said for other parties (to remain unnamed) who - after eating and enjoying the hotdish discovered that he was, in point of fact, allergic to curry.  He discovered this, as one does, by waking up at three in the morning with his upper lip swollen to a comical degree.*

*Before proceeding on to my point - some Benedryl took care of the problem and everyone is just fine, so it's all right to be amused by the story. 

My point - imagine how frustrating it would be to reach a certain age never having tried Curry (or whatever) only to finally try it, discover how tasty it is, and learn that you were allergic to it and can never have it again.    That's just cold, universe.

And So -  The Vizsla Advent Calendar - Day 4.

Today's gift - remembering the tragic curry tale just related - take a moment to think for a moment about something you really enjoy.  And then take a moment to be grateful that that thing doesn't send you into anaphylactic shock.

It ain't The Gift of The Magi, but it's hard to get those chestnut's roasting with a closed off windpipe, now isn't it.

Vizsla - Giving you the gift of perspective.

Hallmark's 'Say it to Punctuation' series

The Vizsla Advent Calendar - Day 2


For too long now we've been using the written language to express feelings of love and devotion to other people/things/abstract concepts without ever considering how the written language itself feels.

Reflect, if you will, on the humble punctuation marks that make your written expression possible.  Think on the plight of the humble apostrophe.  The underdog Semi-Colon.  The Hardworking Amperand.  These diligent workers- far form being a mere addendum to those 26 little friends we call the Latin or Roman Alphabet - are deserving of so much more.  Of Respect.  Of Appreciation.  Of... dare I say it... Love.

It's with that thought in mind that I'm proud to announce a brand new greeting card line specifically designed to express these feelings to the punctuation marks who have gone so long unrewarded.

You're welcome, universe.

Some samples include-

O, The Joy with which I'm filde,

When I see you, lovely tilde

or how about

You make me weak down to my knees

my foxy friend, parentheses

Or even

A big French Kiss,

From me to you

Our love's not 'grave',

Accent ague

And of course

C is for the Cherished way you point at things above you

A is for the Awesomeness you bring that makes me love you

R is for the Reasons that all make you so Divine

E is Every day it makes me glad that you are mine

T is for the Time we have Oh I can hardly bear it

In every way on every day you are my upwards caret

The Vizsla Advent Calendar triumphant!

A few days ago I discussed my ongoing commitment to not getting around to buying an advent calendar each year.  (You can find said discussion here.)

So today I was actually on my way to purchase a soulless store-bought advent calendar when it occurred to me - Why give in to the commericalization of the holiday and BUY an advent calendar, when I can make one and provide treats for you all the whole month long!*

*Totally not an excuse for cheap daily topics for the next month.  Not at all.

And so -

The Super Awesome Lavish Vizsla Event - (SALVE) Day 1!

A shout out to My own Christmas Standard.*

*Not actually a standard yet, but it WAS once recorded by the Harvard Men's Acapella Chorus, so who are you to pick nits.