fungi fungi fungi. yes, eye'm totally fungalicious. the won thing eye was able two accomplish wile confined two dog island was two partake inn my hobby of taking pitchers of mushrooms and fungi and indulging my passion four awl things mycological. now dew knot get me rung. eye am knot a mycophagist (eye eee, a person who eats funguses). (four starters eye'm knot a person, sew eye woodn't bee a mycophagist even if eye eight funguses.)

(butt the point eye'm trying two make is that eye don't care four mushrooms.) (their disgusting. end persons turnip there knows when wee eat cat turds. go figure.)

anyway, eye have installed my portfolio of shroom pix four you awl two sea. end as an added bonus, my good friend buster has kindly provided the scientifical pig latin names four each genius and specious. eye'm sew envious. eye always wanted two bee able to talk too foreign pigs. there sew exotic.

croak croak croak. pun intended. (ewe'll sea.) eye no that whee half a few frogs out their that reed the blog dogs, sew hear's a cautionary tail of specific interest two my wetback green friends.

let's say yor a big ol' frog, end ewe sumhow manage two get inside a house. now after a short thyme, yor thinking, well, getting inn was easy, butt how the phunque due eye get out? even if ewe find a door, ewe'll also find that the doorknob is 473 webfits from the ground (that's 217 millitoads for those euro-frogs that use the metric system) end ewe can only jump about 178 webfits high.

sew the smart frog just hides end weights four the door two open, ore four sum humid bean of week constitution to discover ewe and rush ewe out the door post haste. (in such a circumstance, eye recommend ewe try two out-jump the broom.)

butt, sumtimes the young, inexperienced frog will get cocky. he'll think, now that eye'm hear, eye might as well enjoy myself. end the next thing ewe no, he's chillin' in what he thinks is his own private blew lagoon.

now eye personally kin tolerate a frog in my drinking fountain, butt the humids our less tolerant. which is still knot a big deal four any frog that can swallow his pride and allow himself two bee escorted out the door. yes, it's embarrassing, butt it'll bee a grate story back at ye ol' lilly pad.

butt this particular frog outsmarted himself. he screamed, "ewe'll never catch me, ewe unwholely offspring of a scaly snake," and dived down the hole at the bottom of the blew lagoon.

never two bee seen again.

go figure.

off coarse, the moral of the story is: if ewe're a frog, don't drink and dive.

I am totally totally tired. Beat. Shelled. Worn out. I've only been getting 14 or 15 hours of sleep a day lately and I'm really starting to feel it. There's a new herd of baby birds here and I'm just running myself ragged trying to keep them in line. Stump and Tweet came up with this plan for acquiring two new chicks and four new ducklings, but did they have a suitable post-acquisition plan to maintain law and order around here after this regime change? Not on your life. Now this new flock is running amok, endangering themselves and potentially threatening the stability of the entire region. It's cowboy diplomacy at its most arrogant, I say. It has fallen on me to maintain a constant vigil, protecting these miniature fowl from predators, Gilda and their own peccadilloes. And with the budget cuts around here, the likelihood of reinforcements is nil. I'm wasting all my time getting these ducks in a row and I'm tired of it. It's a dog's life.

FOLLOWUP: There has been some insinuation since I put up this post that I hyperbolize the seriousness of my appointed responsibility. Let's face it. Ducklings only have about three beans in their heads. So for those doubters, I refer you to this near tragic duckling incident.

hmm, hmm, hmm... hour sew very cool reader annie recently axed us if wee had "any experience with spinning possums?" well buoy did she come two the write place. dew eye have experience with possums? dew humans shit in a white bowl full of water?

eye must first concede that theirs sum disagreement concerning the intelligence of possums. four instance, the n.o.s. claims that possums our actually smarter then, ahem, dogs. (well excuuuuse me.) butt eye suspect that n.o.s. is a fox network web site intent on sensationalism and rabbit rousing. after all, the vulnerable naturalist vernon bailey has shown quite definitively that the possum brain consists of 25 dried beans.

the thing ewe half two no about possums is that they like two play dead. in fact, that's why wee call them possums, because they like two play "possum." of coarse, playing possum works just fine if know won else nose year playing possum. butt wons a predator -- four instance me -- nose that possums like two play possum, well then it makes them pretty easy two catch, as ewe mite imagine.

the other thing ewe half to no about possums is that, according two the literature, possums are marsupials, witch means that they carry there kids around inn pouches ore duffle bags ore some sort of shoulder bag thing.

ones ewe no awl this its pretty easy two figure out why possums spin around. its because they want two play dead butt their carrying this shoulder bag full of kids and it makes them lean sew awl the beans in there head shift to won side and, well, it just makes them lopsided and it sets them two spinning. inn fact, sum people traditionally refer too possums as "o"-possums. the "o" symbolizes the spinning circle, end "possum" refers two playing dead. eye think its either latin ore texan inn origin.

hears me and chigger talking too a possum. he's bean playing dead four about three days but he's knot fooling us.

it is my unfortunate chore to have to announce that we have confirmed that remains discovered down by the creek are those of the duck, Betty White, who has been listed as missing from the pond since early last week. (Pictured below, Betty at two weeks and Betty at three years.)



According to investigators, it appears that Betty may have been ambushed by the raccoon while nesting. The event has given tragic resonance to the phrase "sitting duck."

In a prepared statement, the raccoon (or one of his doubles, or another raccoon that looks like one of his doubles) accused Woody of killing the duck in a friendly fire incident, since Woody is frequently seen rough-housing with the ducks. But Woody categorically denies the charge and the condition of the remains strongly resembles the work of the paramilitary raccoon regime. We will miss Betty and in particular Betty's eggs which she used to leave around the edge of the pond for us to find and fight over. Betty will also be missed by her partner, the drake Barry White. Barry tried hard to convince Betty that it wasn't safe to wander too far from the security of the pond, "but you know hens," he said, "you just can't tell them anything."

hay hay hay look what eye found this morning. a full-grown copperhead. lucky four this snake a car got their first, since eye tend to tear them in two. butt this whey eye get to take a picture of a whole snake instead of having to shoot several pics and then put the whole thing back together using photoshop. anyway, click four a closer view. (note: any similarity between ann coulter and a poisonous snake are purely coincidental and i have know idea why you would suggest otherwise.)

its the furst day of fall. sometime last night was the equal-knocks. cool. because i'm a dog everyone pretty much expects that eye invest tons of time being in touch with my inner natural self, living in harmony with the world around me, being won with the universe, staying atuned to the lunar cycles, etc. etc. etc. and then somehow eye'm supposed to instinctively no about stuff like seasonal changes, solsticks, impending earthquakes, winter snowfall, human angst and what the word "heel" means.

now eye can tell when the moon is full because, well, its round then. and eye'm pretty good at guessing which hand the dog treat is in. but when it comes too something like the equal-knocks that only comes once every seven years, who can keep track? i used to count "one mississippi two mississippi..." every day until there was the same number of mississippis while it was light as there was when it was dark. then eye new it was the first day of fall (or spring). but that was a lot of work and eye often lost count. and then there was a period when eye knew it was an equal-knocks because there'd be all these naked women dancing around a fire in the woods. but it seemed like as they got older there bodies weren't up too the over-exposure, and now they just meet in a bar somewhere. sew its a good think that these days eye've got an imac with a calendar reminder thing.

dam, dam, dam. sun, of, a, bitch. it's hunting season again. pee, puke, piss, poop, puss. i hate it when that happens.

what, ewe ask, is hunting season? it's the thyme of the year when humid beans, compensating four the fact that they have week eyesite, pour hearing, a lousy cents of smell and slow reflexes, put lawn chairs up in trees and use weapons of mess destruction too catch food. (some of them are sew stupid they don't even eat it after they kill it, but then again they never had to survive on canned dog food.)

sew why due i hate hunting season? because i have two where a bright orange collar four the duration and it itches like crazy. if only those fools had half a brain, they'd know the difference between a turkey and a dog and eye could get rid of this tacky outer where. it's sew knot fat. heck, if they'd just tell me what they wanted, i'd go catch it four them. it's what i due four a living.

I had a frigging tick on me tonight. A big fat ugly engorged tick sucking blood out my body. That bloodsucker was swelled up to the size of a quarter-inch diameter beach ball. I hate it when that happens. I'd like to be funny about it. I'd like to use bloodsucking ticks as a metaphorical jumping off point to develop a sarcastic commentary about CEOs or politicians or stock brokers or email spammers or right-wing radio talk show hosts or left-wing pseudo-victims or pervert priests or radical Muslims or radical Baptists or reality television or the NRA or the NBA or professional athletes in general or feral cats or Anna Nicole Smith or Ann Coulter or X-sports or France or boy bands or health insurance or car insurance or life insurance or whatever. But this was a REAL tick sucking REAL blood out of my REAL body, and there's just nothing funny about it.