Breaking news -
In association with standard N-SOAk reporting, we here at The 42nd Vizsla have uncovered the following sinister transcript from a recent meeting of the international affiliation of Sea Otters.
We caution you - What you are about to read is deeply disturbing. And kind of adorable. I mean, look at their cute little hands...
<Begin Transcript>
There is a scratchy rumble of voices and chairs being adjusted as the members of the organization try to adjust their stout tails into a comfortable position.
HEAD OTTER (OTTRIMUS PRIME) - OK, OK, we're going to go ahead and get this meeting underway
<General grumbling and the sound of someone breaking clams open on a rock with their adorable little fingers. So human. So human.>
OTTRIMUS PRIME - Alright, now I've been receiving your reports from all regions of infiltration, and I'm pleased to be able to tell you that so far our plans to take over the planet and subvert the human race are proceeding
<General applause, mixed with some slight splashing noises as a few of the members in the back begin to groom themselves with water from an available pool. Just Awwwwww. So cute.>
SUBORDINATE OTTER A - What about the puny humans? Surely they must have noticed us maneuvering into position for this takeover?
OTTRIMUS PRIME - They have, obviously. But fortunately no sooner are they deciding to alert the nations of the world to the impending threat than they get distracted by the absolutely delightful way we hold hands while floating downstream together at which point they just start cooing uncontrollably and throwing us peices of fish. The Fools!
OTTER STEVE - You mean like the way Otter Hank and Otter Bill are holding hands right now?
OTTRIMUS PRIME - Yes, exactly. Although Otter Hank and Otter Bill - we really only ever do that while floating so that we don't get separated when we fall asleep.
OTTER HANK (Possibly OTTER BILL... it's hard to tell...) We're not holding hands for floating. We're just holding hands. Don't judge us.
OTTRIMUS PRIME - Hey - no judging here. Did you see how the humans all went apeshit for those gay penguins? You guys are gold.
SUBORDINATE OTTER B - All hail for the oncoming Otterman Empire!
ALL OTTERS TOGETHER - ALL HAIL! ALL HAIL!
<upswell of noise of tails being slapped on the floor in just the cutest way>
The 42nd Vizsla - Because there were already 41 Vizslas registered here.
Showing posts with label Otters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Otters. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Monday, September 22, 2014
N-SOAk!
It's finally here again. That most magical holiday of the year.
Yes, I'm talking about...
Brought to us by Friends of the Sea Otter*, National Sea Otter Awareness weeK (N-SOAk) this year is September 21st-27th
*I swear to God I am not making any of this up
You can find out more about N-SOAk at their website.
Tune in tomorrow for a more in depth discussion about the event, but for now let's all just take a moment to be aware of our pal, The Sea Otter.
Yes, I'm talking about...
National Sea Otter Awareness weeK!
Brought to us by Friends of the Sea Otter*, National Sea Otter Awareness weeK (N-SOAk) this year is September 21st-27th
*I swear to God I am not making any of this up
You can find out more about N-SOAk at their website.
Tune in tomorrow for a more in depth discussion about the event, but for now let's all just take a moment to be aware of our pal, The Sea Otter.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
If You're Going to Be An Otter, Be A Butch Otter
So there's some hoo-ha going on in Idaho concerning a legal struggle between some people who would like to get married and some other people who have nothing better to do than worry about other people getting married. Apparently their argument is based on a deliberate misunderstanding of a two thousand year old book that tells you who you're allowed to hate.*
*I admit that my understanding of their argument is a little hazy, based on the fact that I can only listen to stupid for so long before I zone out. It seems to have a lot to do with aesthetics, NFL showering and not wanting to have to interact with their own children. I know. I don't get it either.
This is not what we're here to talk about.
What we're here to talk about is that fact that the news reporting of the whole hoo-ha occasionally causes you to come across sentences such as - "U.S. Magistrate Judge Candy W. Dale has denied Gov. Butch Otter's motion for a stay on her decision overturning Idaho's ban on same-sex marriages."
To which the obvious response is, 'I'm sorry, did you just say that the name of Idaho's Governor is 'Butch Otter?'
Yes. Yes it is.
Well, sort of. His given name is Clement Leroy Otter. Butch is a nickname. But nonetheless. Butch Otter. Governor Butch Otter.
Running his name through image search reveals a shocking lack of photoshopped pictures of Otters trying very hard to look all tough and hardcore (so someone out there in the Internet community really needs to get on that please), but does provide us with the info that he apparently accidentally appeared in a softcore porn in 1992.*
*This briefly raises the hope that Butch Otter was his porn name and he forgot to switch back when he ran for office, but no.
*I admit that my understanding of their argument is a little hazy, based on the fact that I can only listen to stupid for so long before I zone out. It seems to have a lot to do with aesthetics, NFL showering and not wanting to have to interact with their own children. I know. I don't get it either.
This is not what we're here to talk about.
What we're here to talk about is that fact that the news reporting of the whole hoo-ha occasionally causes you to come across sentences such as - "U.S. Magistrate Judge Candy W. Dale has denied Gov. Butch Otter's motion for a stay on her decision overturning Idaho's ban on same-sex marriages."
To which the obvious response is, 'I'm sorry, did you just say that the name of Idaho's Governor is 'Butch Otter?'
Yes. Yes it is.
Well, sort of. His given name is Clement Leroy Otter. Butch is a nickname. But nonetheless. Butch Otter. Governor Butch Otter.
Running his name through image search reveals a shocking lack of photoshopped pictures of Otters trying very hard to look all tough and hardcore (so someone out there in the Internet community really needs to get on that please), but does provide us with the info that he apparently accidentally appeared in a softcore porn in 1992.*
*This briefly raises the hope that Butch Otter was his porn name and he forgot to switch back when he ran for office, but no.
Top Five things a really Butch Otter might say-
1. Look at my cute little hands... As they kick your ass.
2. The F150 totally has more room in the seat for my tail, which is thick at the base, muscular, flexible, and tapers to a point.
3. Yeah, Bob and I hold hands when we're floating down the river on our backs. But it's just so that we don't drift apart while we're napping, don't make it creepy, bub.
4. I'm going to break open a clam with a rock... as soon as I finish rewiring my kitchen to install a dedicated receptacle circuit for the new garbage disposal
5. Yeah, I built that china hutch over there. Suck it, Beavers.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Origami is Not a Vizsla Strength Area
In honer of Sea Otter Awareness Week (aka best theme week ever - suck it, Shark Week) We here at Vizsla International broke down and finally attempted the Origami Otter pattern that was forwarded to us some time ago.
Here is the result.
Here is the result.
A few thoughts on the Origami Otter
1- There are not a lot of dogs widely known for their mad origami skills, so I refuse to feel like I've let the side down by not doing a better job.
2- Folding an origami otter is its own reward. It's about the process, people.
3- Yes, he is green. Because when you are a sea otter and it's your week you get to be any damn color you want to be and apologize to no one. Actually, otters are unlikely to apologize for themselves regardless of whose week it is. Otters are highly resistant to peer pressure. And have adorable little hands.
His name is Buck, btw.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
The Most Important News Ever
This incredibly important news bulletin came across the desks of Vizsla Inc. just moments ago.
Sea Otter Awareness Week
September 22 - 28, 2013
That's right.
It's an entire week to celebrate our awareness of Sea Otters.
I have nothing further to add to this.
Vizsla Out
Sea Otter Awareness Week
September 22 - 28, 2013
That's right.
It's an entire week to celebrate our awareness of Sea Otters.
I have nothing further to add to this.
Vizsla Out
Monday, July 29, 2013
The more embarrassing Faces of Death...
I know we don't like to think about it, but it remains an undeniable fact that we are all, at some point, going to die.
Except of course for Neil Diamond, who will like forever both through his music and through a skillful blend of cybernetic enhancements.
Regardless, what concerns me most about the whole issue is not the thought of dying itself, but rather a more general concern that the death itself not be something ridiculous. The last thing you want is folk tittering at your funeral.
Yes, I just said tittering.
Here are just a few examples of the many, many embarrassing way that I'd like to not meet my final end...
Yes. There is such a thing as a Giant Otter- I discovered this while perusing Otter-related websites in preparation for a previous column. Now, I admit to having mixed feelings on this one, because I'm pretty sure that the death itself would be absolutely adorable. That said, I'd just as soon not have everyone's first reaction to my death be 'Awwwww.... look at his cute little blood-soaked hands! They're so human!'
In the world of air travel, there is a thing called 'Blue Ice'. This is - to not put too delicate an edge on it - a frozen mixture of disinfectant and other people's dookie.
Now, the airline industry is quick to point out that they are actually forbidden from dumping this in mid-flight, and indeed there is no mechanism to do so. HOWEVER... they also acknowledge that there have been at least 27 documented incidents in the last few decades of Blue Ice striking the Earth from accidental dislodge - Which sounds an awful lot like a euphemism for the very process that created the need to have blue ice in the first place.
So, yes. Your chances of dying from being hit by the stuff is roughly the same as winning the lottery. But all things being equal, I'd rather win the lottery. If there are three words that I would like to not appear in my Eulogy, 'Other People's Stool' would be them.
As a gesture of respect for the man, I'll leave you to Google that one on your own if you really want to know.
Cosplay - for those who are too cool to be familiar with it - is basically a term that was entirely coined in order for adults to justify feeling ok about their desire to play let's pretend in neat costumes.
When we were kids of course we just went ahead and did it without worrying about what the people who saw your Facebook photos might think. As we get older, apparently it needs a niche brand in order for us to feel OK about doing it.
Now, I want to make perfectly clear - I am all for Cosplay, whatever you want to call it. As more than a few pictures from Doctor Who conventions of the past will attest (and I made a ROCKIN' Sabalom Glitz, for the record)
I'd just like to avoid the words 'Found Dead in Batman Costume' to be part of my obituary. It opens up too many questions.
Unless it's a nuclear bomb and I'm saving the planet of course.
Here's the back story to this one. The other morning on Marketplace they had a brief discussion of how the UK was sending out an appeal for people to be a bit more careful and commonsense with handcuffs.
Apparently since the onset of that 50 Shades of Grey phenomenon their Emergency services have seen a jump in calls to free someone inadvertently handcuffed to something inconvenient has risen by some insanely ridiculous percentage*
*No, I don't really understand why they were talking about it on Marketplace either.
Being British, the PSA is mostly along the lines of 'For the love of God, check if you have the keys handy first, there's a good chap'
What this makes me think however is that it's just a matter of time until somebody let's somebody else shackle em up for a nice night of whatever-you're-into-I'm-not-judging-you, only to have the non-shackled party suddenly have a massive aneurysm and die, leaving the shackled party to slowly die of dehydration and embarrassment.
That's gonna be some fun small talk at the wake, now isn't it.
Except of course for Neil Diamond, who will like forever both through his music and through a skillful blend of cybernetic enhancements.
Regardless, what concerns me most about the whole issue is not the thought of dying itself, but rather a more general concern that the death itself not be something ridiculous. The last thing you want is folk tittering at your funeral.
Yes, I just said tittering.
Here are just a few examples of the many, many embarrassing way that I'd like to not meet my final end...
MAULED BY A GIANT OTTER
Not everyone can pull off Adorable and Badass at the same time
Yes. There is such a thing as a Giant Otter- I discovered this while perusing Otter-related websites in preparation for a previous column. Now, I admit to having mixed feelings on this one, because I'm pretty sure that the death itself would be absolutely adorable. That said, I'd just as soon not have everyone's first reaction to my death be 'Awwwww.... look at his cute little blood-soaked hands! They're so human!'
SMACKED DOWN BY SOMEONE ELSE'S MID-FLIGHT POO
In the world of air travel, there is a thing called 'Blue Ice'. This is - to not put too delicate an edge on it - a frozen mixture of disinfectant and other people's dookie.
Now, the airline industry is quick to point out that they are actually forbidden from dumping this in mid-flight, and indeed there is no mechanism to do so. HOWEVER... they also acknowledge that there have been at least 27 documented incidents in the last few decades of Blue Ice striking the Earth from accidental dislodge - Which sounds an awful lot like a euphemism for the very process that created the need to have blue ice in the first place.
So, yes. Your chances of dying from being hit by the stuff is roughly the same as winning the lottery. But all things being equal, I'd rather win the lottery. If there are three words that I would like to not appear in my Eulogy, 'Other People's Stool' would be them.
THAT THING THAT HAPPENED TO DAVID CARRADINE
As a gesture of respect for the man, I'll leave you to Google that one on your own if you really want to know.
DURING COSPLAY
This. Guy. Rules.
Cosplay - for those who are too cool to be familiar with it - is basically a term that was entirely coined in order for adults to justify feeling ok about their desire to play let's pretend in neat costumes.
When we were kids of course we just went ahead and did it without worrying about what the people who saw your Facebook photos might think. As we get older, apparently it needs a niche brand in order for us to feel OK about doing it.
Now, I want to make perfectly clear - I am all for Cosplay, whatever you want to call it. As more than a few pictures from Doctor Who conventions of the past will attest (and I made a ROCKIN' Sabalom Glitz, for the record)
I'd just like to avoid the words 'Found Dead in Batman Costume' to be part of my obituary. It opens up too many questions.
HANDCUFFED TO SOMETHING
Unless it's a nuclear bomb and I'm saving the planet of course.
Here's the back story to this one. The other morning on Marketplace they had a brief discussion of how the UK was sending out an appeal for people to be a bit more careful and commonsense with handcuffs.
Apparently since the onset of that 50 Shades of Grey phenomenon their Emergency services have seen a jump in calls to free someone inadvertently handcuffed to something inconvenient has risen by some insanely ridiculous percentage*
*No, I don't really understand why they were talking about it on Marketplace either.
Being British, the PSA is mostly along the lines of 'For the love of God, check if you have the keys handy first, there's a good chap'
What this makes me think however is that it's just a matter of time until somebody let's somebody else shackle em up for a nice night of whatever-you're-into-I'm-not-judging-you, only to have the non-shackled party suddenly have a massive aneurysm and die, leaving the shackled party to slowly die of dehydration and embarrassment.
That's gonna be some fun small talk at the wake, now isn't it.
Friday, July 26, 2013
A Confluence of Otters
'Sup
First off, it should be observed that 'A Confluence of Otters' is totally what the final book in that Game of Thrones series is called. It will come in sequence right after 'A Buttload of Unicorns', which I have already pledged to the internet to write myself should George R. R. Martin die before getting around to it.
The other thing to observe about the confluence of otters is that that is not the collective noun. Upon doing a little research the internet tells me that there are in fact four acceptable terms for a group of otters; A Family, A Raft, A Bevy, or A Romp. And while normally my heart would belong to the word Bevy, I have to go with 'A Romp of Otters' as the preferred term, because that is f*cking adorable.
Seriously. A Romp of Otters.
Doesn't just reading that make you want to to cartwheels through a field of giant marshmallows?
Just me?
OK, moving on.
Now, I'm not particularly superstitious - I have no trouble walking under ladders and the number 13 doesn't particularly bother me. However, I do kind of think that when the same reasonably obscure thing comes up repeatedly in entirely unrelated contexts it might be worth taking note of the fact.
For instance, say you should be cleaning out your basement and find a bottle of Brandy that you didn't know you owned, only to find 15 minutes later that you also own a long-forgotten brandy snifter. I think you and I both know what the universe is telling you to do there, and it requires a smoking jacket and a leather chair.
Not that that has ever happened...
Anyway-
A few days ago, while working on an event that I'm helping to organize, I was presented with the (probably facetious*) suggestion that we should have live otters in attendance.
*No, you're going to have to google it
I was unable to make the live otter experience* happen, sadly enough.
*Best. Band. Name. Ever.
But then the following day I heard the NPR report about Hellbender Salamanders (the tale of which I recounted here) and how they are called 'Snot Otters' by the locals.
And I thought to myself, 'Self,' I thought, 'What a charming coincidence that Otters should come up in casual discourse twice in 24 hours when I haven't thought about them in years otherwise.
Well then, last night at a gathering of friends that I hadn't seen in a fair while, someone brought up the subject of otters in a completely unrelated discussion. And I thought 'Holy crap, self, that's three otters in two days! That's enough to call them a Romp!'*
*OK, I didn't actually think that part since I only just a moment ago learned that they were called that. Still seems notable though.
So at this point I have no choice but to conclude that the universe is trying to tell me something otter-related. But in direct contrast to the brandy incident in which my instructions were clear, I'm not entirely sure what I'm intended to do with the information.
Should I float down a river on my back with my adorable human looking hands clasped over my belly?
Should I beware of a strange man breaking open clams with a rock?
Is it an oblique reminder to remember to enjoy simple pleasures?
Help me out with a little clarity here universe.
In the interim, here's a video of an otter playing with a rock.*
*Careful - this may actual reach a toxic level of adorable.
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