His Death Cult Had A Name-O

Newton's Second* Law of Inappropriate Workplace Conversation: 

-A Workplace conversation that is becoming increasingly inappropriate will tend to continue to grow increasingly inappropriate unless acted upon by an outside force.  Like HR.

 *His first law is the more widely known - Don't trust that Betty-Sue in Marketing.  She's a total bitch.  In case you were wondering.

Some of you may recall the recent story about our office-wide obsession with Teacup Pigs

Things have continued to spiral out of control from that point. 

For example, today the Teacup Pig Death Cult* was given an official name:  Persimmon Rain. 

*Someone please add that to the list of awesome band names. 

Persimmon, of course, is the name of the teacup pig.  It is now lost to history whether he was given the name Persimmon after becoming evil, or if the move to evil was precipitated by being given it.  Regardless, it suits him well, and has comprehensively stuck by this point. We have seen the face of evil.  And its name is Persimmon.  Hence, his death cult: Persimmon Rain.

This is pleasing on a couple of levels.  First of all, it sounds very mellow and chilled out.  The persimmon is a wild fruit related to the tomato, and the concept of having them rain down on you sounds very 'back-to-nature-y', although in reality it would probably hurt a little bit. It definitely sounds more relaxed and socially acceptable than 'small pig dancing in uncontrollable joy as the blood of the innocent pours down onto him from above', But then, what doesn't.

Second, that makes the Death Cult initials 'PR', which means that you can totally pass off your death cult related activities as being some sort of public relations exercise and the not-we will have no idea what you're really up to.

See Betty-Sue?  It all comes back to marketing.

The Vizsla in Question

It may not have entirely escaped attention that the Vizsla posts have been a tad... sparse... for the last few weeks.*

*On the other hand, it may have entirely escaped attention, in which case feel free to go about your business, nothing to see here.

The reason is simply that Willum, the titular (no giggling in the back) Vizsla has been undergoing some health issues lately. 

I should stress, he's OK.  He's just 14 years old (next week), which for a 70 lbs dog is a rich fair age.

But I'm not going to pretend that his age isn't, at this point, showing.  Which has made writing his column feel somewhat difficult just lately.

Again, I want to stress, he is alive and well.  Which is entirely today's point.  Willum is a great dog.  Outside of being an internationally known Internet pundit, he's loving, loyal, smart and kind.  He's the dog that people that hate dogs love.  He's one of a kind, as all dogs are, really.

And I realized that I was in a very real danger of never writing that down while he was here for me to rub his belly immediately after, and that is not OK.

Willum is a great dog, and he's alive, and we're here celebrating that today. You should take this moment to appreciate the dog that's still with you now, if you're lucky enough to have one with you now.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to rub a belly.

Tomorrow we'll return to daily frivolousness.

Vizsla Flashback - 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.'

I Summon Thee, Teacup Pig! And The World Shall Bleed!

At the office for the past few weeks we've become obsessed with Teacup Pigs.

It all started with an offhand reference to them in an old episode of How I Met Your Mother.  This led to Googling, which led to adorable pictures, which led to the teacup pig becoming the focal point of a sort of demonic death cult, determined to use his adorableness as a means toward his ultimate goal of world domination/destruction.

You know, like these things do.

It ran something like this-

Monday:  Oh, look how Cute!  There's images of him online wearing tiny rain boots!

Tuesday: "I'm Teacup Pig, look how cute I am!"  <Said in high lilty adorable teacup pig voice>

Wednesday: "Look at my adorable long lashes!  Burn things for me!" <Still in high lilty voice>

Thursday:  <High Lilty Voice> "Kill them.  Kill them all."  <Normal Voice> "I don't know Teacup Pig... I mean... that seems a little har..." <Slightly more hysterical Lilty Voice>  "I Thought You LOOOVED me!  Kill Them!  Kill Them All!"

Friday:  <Increasingly disturbed high lilty voice> "Look!  Look at my adorable tiny hooves as I frolic and dance in a shower of blood of the innocent!  Make the innocent blood rain for teacup pig!  Rain!!  WHEEE WHEEEWHEE"


And so forth.

To make things more disturbing (If such a thing is possible) - we're in the middle of a massive building renovation that involves cleaning out all the storage spaces.  Going through a closet across the hall we discovered....

Now, I don't want to jump to any alarmist conclusions here... But I'm pretty sure he is the dark one come forth to end the world and we accidentally summoned him.

Sorry about that, planet...

Google Provides Yet Another Reason to Feel Bad about Ourselves as a Culture

So apparently someone has taken the time to look up what the most common Google Search request is in each of these, our 50 States of the Union.  (That would be the USA for the foreign readership.  FYI - prepare to feel culturally superior.  At least until someone looks up your nations most common search criteria.)

The US map with what each state looks for most on the Internet can be found here.

Now, first off - I live in Minnesota.  Where apparently we do a lot of Internet searching for 'Roller Blading'

The only explanation that immediately leaps top mind for this is that the bulk of Minnesota's search engine usage can be found in and around the Uptown area, and we can safely assume that the #2 most searched for item is 'Axe Body Spray'*

*Footnote for the not locals - that was funny as Hell.

The data seems to fall into a few general categories.

The first category - 'I totally would have guessed that'

Witness, for example, New Mexico and their online search for UFOs.  Totally makes sense.  I suspect you can probably mapqwest area 51 as well if you have the patience to try.  Similarly, Nevada's entry - 'Tattoo Removal'.  For when you're really anxious for something that happened in Vegas to stay in Vegas.  Then we see Alaska - Whose entry of 'Mail Order Brides' is only screaming out for a font that reads as slightly more desperate in order to be exactly what we were expecting to see there.

Then we look to Alabama and Mississippi, who are searching for Twerking and God.

This kind of feels right to me, since I'm not 100% sure which is Alabama and which is Mississippi* and frankly the concepts of Twerking and God are equally a waste of time as far as I can see.  Plus both make you look ridiculous on Youtube.

*Vizlsas- Not awesome with geography.  But hey, at least I can admit it.

Then we have the category of 'Public Shame'.  I can only imagine the taunting that takes place on the state line between Montana and South Dakota.

'You guys search for Meth!'

'Well at least it isn't Nickleback!'

(Note - I am unable to determine who's argument is sadder in this instance...)

Similarly, the 'sad-off' border dispute between Virginia and Kentucky.  Farmville v. Whitesnake.  You know, they're natural enemies in the wild.

But no one... NO ONE is sadder than Missouri... An entire state searching for The Family Circus.  Seriously... as a people they have become so despondent that they can't even be bothered Googling a cartoon that doesn't suck.  This is what a cry for help looks like people.  Right.  There.

The less said about Texas' 'Do I have Herpes' the better, beyond pointing out that this is yet another solid reason to not put up to much efforts into their push to secede...

Then there is the category of 'More information needed'

Why is Louisiana spending so much time googling The Golden Girls?  I mean, I kind of approve, but I'm bewildered by it.  Um... Washington...? WT comprehensive F??  Iowa- please tell me you're looking for the college and not the shitty musician.  Illinois, what are you thinki... ok, never mind, I'm not really surprised by that one.  Pennsylvania.  What about the topic needs further research on your part?  What more can there be to know about it??  Massachusetts - I see what you're doing there.

So, there it is.  Take some time to look at what we're looking at

Vizlsa Flashback - Very few dogs are on anti-depressants

It's worth noting - as far as just being happy in the moment and not letting things get to you unduly, dogs are head, shoulder and tail ahead of people.

That established, it's come to my attention that plenty of humans are prone to periods of mild to moderate depression (any more severe that that and you really shouldn't be talking to a dog about your troubles, you should be talking to a trained therapist.  You might also mention to them that you've taken to talking to dogs, as long as you're already there....)  Since I'm assured by reliable sources that the big three antidepressants preferred by dogs (Drinking out of the toilet, scooting, and licking your own snack-basket*) are for some reason off the table for the human population, here I present instead an overview of things people can do to cure those 'I only got two legs blues'

*If I might quote Bobby Cobb

A warm bath

-Surprisingly not as effective at curing depression as it feels like it should be.  Turns out that we use the word 'Wallowing' for a reason.

A brisk shower

-More helpful than you expect it's going to be.  Plus it never hurts.  Unless you're a wicked witch or made of sugar.  Then it would probably hurt.

Going for a run

-Less helpful than it feels like it should be.  Mostly it just allows you to reflect on how much less good of shape you're in than you would like to be.  Plus you get all sweaty.

Working out

-Same as for the above entry on Running, except with the added bonus of being surrounded by people who ARE in better shape than you are.

Meaningless Sex

-Well, now this depends on what you're depressed about.  If your depression is centered around 'I'm such a tramp, I'll never find true love because I'm giving the milk away for free, etc.' than this is not your option.  If your depression is based around 'I'm so unattractive, no one would ever want to have sex with me', than this one is golden.

Meaningful Sex.

-If you have access to this, what are you depressed about?

Buying yourself something pretty

-Again, it depends on context.  If you're sad because you have no money and you're about to miss another mortgage payment than this one is probably not a great option.

Hearing about the discovery of Doctor Who episodes thought to have been destroyed forever in 1974 turning up somewhere in Africa and about to be released on DVD

-Amazingly effective.  Bit hard to orchestrate though.

Drinking at home alone in the basement

-Turns out that this is 'unhealthy'.  Yes.  We were all surprised.

Snuggling up under covers with a dog and watching the entire Key to Time series.

-Best.  Thing.  Ever.

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.

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.

 Lero

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