Stuff My Dogs Have Wrecked: Shoes

Kayloo was the kingpin behind the Cushion Fiasco. Here we have the mastermind behind the Shoe Wrecking Incident:


A bit of back story: My mom and I have decided that we want to start this annual "Chick's Only Weekend" (from this point forward known as PROJECT C.O.W.). 2009 was the first annual event. We gabbed. We shopped. We shopped. We shopped.

The 109th store my mother dragged me to was the Shoe Store from Hell. And there was a sale. So, it was the Shoe Store from Hell jacked up on triple shot, sugar-free Vanilla Americano's and hairspray. About one million of us voluntarily filed down into the depths of this gigantic, cave of a store with no natural light and only fluorescent yellow CHECK IT OUT YOU CRAZY LADIES SALE!!! signs to light our way.

And I found these shoes. The perfect shoes. They looked decent. They were comfortable. A bit of a heel, but not too much. They didn't click when I walked. They were summery. They were perfect.

Enter Mickey. As you can see from the picture above, he is quite evil and this was a calculated attack.

The little strappy thing that keeps the sandal on my foot is now GONE. GONE I TELL YOU! All the shopping and walking and jostling and wrestling (I don't care how old she was, I FOUND THEM FIRST and she had to go DOWN)... all for NOTHING.


These are my favourite cowboy boots:


Actually, they are my only cowboy boots. They are so favourite, I haven't even worn them yet. If anything happens to these boots, I'm telling you right now I'm making purses out of both of those dogs.

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Going, Going... Gone

I was in Berkeley, CA last week for a few days. Here is a pretty picture from my window seat on the plane.


Right after I took this shot the kindly man sitting next to me said, "Uh. Do you have enough elbow room?" He may have said this because in order to get the angle just right I had to half sit on his lap, I shoved my elbow in his ear and I made him hold my grande, non-fat, decaf latte. For about 10 minutes. I assured him that I did indeed have enough elbow room but I would love a little bag of peanuts. I don't think he got my joke.

I didn't get home until about 11pm and 11pm is approximately 1/2 hour after the dogs' bed time. They were very,very tired. Here is Mickey going...

Going...
Gone.
And apparently Kayloo was doing a bit of drinking with the pig. I told John pigs were a bad influence.



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