Won’t work. My brother got into a ‘barking feud’ with the neighbor’s dog. He tried for weeks but:
The dog just barked back louder.
The dog could keep it up forever while my brother ended up hoarse after five minutes. Apparently barking for dogs is like talking for humans: essentially effortless.
My brother’s efforts apparently convinced the dog my brother was a rabid rival dog, and thus HAD to be barked at every time he was visible and for long after he was in the house, which the rest of our family got maybe 30 seconds of half-hearted barking.
So don’t do it.
If it seriously bothers you, don’t do things humans fail at (e.g. barking) go to things we excel at. For example, advanced weaponry. A garden-hose soaking each time will at least force him to bark at you from a greater distance.
My husband does that to our neighbour’s dogs when they bark. (Just a quick spray to shut them up.) He says he’d rather give the dogs a short-lived discomfort than allow them to keep barking and have other neighbours call the cops on them (which has happened to previous neighbour’s dogs.)
I have no idea. The place that hadn’t called me back did in fact call me back and wants me to come in for a third interview, this time at the clinic where I would actually be working. (They made me drive 30 miles each way in the complete opposite direction TWICE for my other interview and working interview. The location of the open position is 8 miles away.)
Thanks, flatlined. New Guy got himself signed up with a temp agency and starts a 2-week gig today, and while the hours will be looong they’ll come with a bit of that sweet, sweet overtime pay. Frankly, I think he just needed a kick in the ass.
In general, some stuff shook loose, I guess. After all the, uh, *unpleasantness *of last week, once we finally talked everything through and all, we’ve both been more relaxed and affectionate with each other, and he’s been in a better mood than he’s been in weeks … months, even. Joking around, laughing easily, a long way from the somber, brooding man he’s been lately. He says it’s because he’s started going back to church after a long time of not attending. I think it’s because he’s getting some direction back into his life. Whatever. I don’t care *why *it is, so much as *that *it is.
But we’re all here to bitch, so I’ll pit the HOA up the street that left their sprinklers on yesterday during the freeze and turned the nearby intersection into a dangerous mess of uncontrollably slip-sliding vehicles. Lovely to behold, to be sure: icicles glittering in the morning sunshine and decorating each bush and crepe myrtle, and all that winter wonderland beauty. But we’re not driving Zambonis, here. Turn that shit OFF!
Oh, and concur that a squirt gun can help curb a barking neighbor dog. Some recommend to add vinegar to the water (avoid Poochie’s eyes if you do this) to make it a more unpleasant and memorable discouragement to the dog.
I don’t think I’d squirt the dog, because I don’t know if it’d work through the type of fence my neighbour has, and my neighbour is often at home and might not like it if she sees me squirting the dog. Maybe when she’s not there, though…
Our city fathers (and mothers), in their infinite wisdom, have decided that this would be the appropriate time to tear up one of the major streets which connect the rest of the city to the local shopping mall. This street construction, requiring flag men and blocked lanes, will run through the end of the year. Right at Christmas shopping time.
It means they’re afraid she’d make them look bad. Or, in the words of my current boss, “work more slowly, you don’t want to make the veterans look bad and they are passed by snails all the time.”
I hope that interview pays up and that it turns out to be the bestest job ever, Avarie537.
I need a bigger spatula. My Beloved Butthead buys water. I understand, tap water often tastes nasty. However, we have a good filter system and the water tastes very nice. All he would have to do is fill up one or 2 of my nice water cold cups and take them to work. Does he do that? Oh no! He goes to work and buys water from the machine and then THROWS THE PLASTIC INTO THE TRASH!!!
I know that he pays lip-service to my tree-hugger ways when I’m around, but he’s a smart guy…doesn’t he know that I’ll look at his trash can when I’m visiting his office? At least he tosses all the paper into the shred bin, but I think that’s more because of security than because he cares about the poor landfills.
I am so going to starch his underware next time he flies out on business.
Baby does not get juice. Fruit, yes. Juice, no. I don’t care if its no sugar added. I don’t care if you drink it all the time. Especially not orange juice, even if it is fresh squeezed, because of the potential for reflux.
So what do I catch great grandma feeding baby when I come back from the toilet? Yes, I appreciate she wanted your coffee. She also wants daddy’s beer and she doesn’t get that either.
And why in the goddamn world does your having diverticulitis mean that she can’t eat goddam peas? Whats wrong with fucking peas? She’s had those before. Not the frozen cannelloni dinner you keep trying to stuff in her.
I get my baby back in three weeks. If I don’t make it, please tell them I tried not to commit a triple murder but I was provoked. None of that ‘she was so quiet’ shit.
I called some random dentist last night and he was able to see me right away. Quick x-ray and the tooth was pulled. I’d like to pit the previous dentist office, who when I called for a referral to someone who could see me before December 22, said they’d have to get back to me tomorrow. I can’t believe these people let me be in pain for so long. “Use the toothpaste for sensitive teeth.” WTF. I’ll be seeing this new guy from now on, even though he’s way across town. His office was wonderful.
Glad you found a better dentist, Soylent. If you were to go to Yelp or someplace and explain a few facts about the other dentist’s office, you might help someone else not have such a sucky experience.
I’m so blindingly furious right now that I may explode! The fucking little princess seems to think that it’s kosher to cuss at my preschoolers, because they interrupted his precious nap. I knew I was too mad to discuss at that moment, but there will be a horrendously uncomfortable conversation later.
I’m pretty sure that the clock just hit Beer Thirty.
Oh, geez, Lacunae! Please let us know how the conversation went. That kid (I know he’s really an adult, but he doesn’t act like one) sounds like he needs to be hit with a clue-by-four.
Despite repeated (and re-repeated) assurances that they wanted him for a much longer time, the big tech company that my husband loves working for is not going to extend his contract beyond the original four months.
He’s 63 and I don’t know if he’ll ever get another job.
So glad to hear it’s done and you’re no longer painful. Hope you can get some terrible reviews out there for the other guy, people really need to know he doesn’t take pain management seriously. It’s a big deal.
You are still saintly. I would not have been able to hold it together in order to have a calm conversation. There would be much yelling and tossing headfirst onto the sidewalk. He needs to go. Maybe sleeping under a viaduct for a couple weeks will get the message through.
I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m pretty sure nobody told you could eat a banana while on the elliptical trainer. Further, I am sure they did not tell you that you could the leave peel to rot on the trainer.
Fucking savages!
And let’s talk about what a workout is.
If you are on a machine in your business clothes and spend less that 10 minutes…it’s not a workout. You are fooling yourself.
If you are on any workout machine, and you can take a business call and talk normally, or if you can read a book…it’s not a workout. you are fooling yourself.
A workout should make you sweaty and out of breath. If you do not get sweaty and out of breath…you should stay in the office.
We had the conversation, which also included a big fat all-caps “Do. Not. Ever. Again. Decide that you will worry about it later if you happen to drop one of your prescription pills on the floor.” I had to tell him privately that, if he ever, ever, ever again pulled a stunt that endangered the health, safety, or peace in my home, that he would be homeless; and that I’d hate to do that, because I know his mother would feel like she had to go, too. If he wants to carry the guilt of that? His choice.
He apologized, and seemed sincere. I thanked him, but told him that I don’t want apologies. I want him to quit doing shit that calls for apologies.
