Best People Watching. Ever.

By now you all probably know about my slightly-abnormal obsession with weiner dogs. But the people I'm about to show your are side-show freaks compared to me.

Let me explain. You see, I attended the Weiner Dog National Races this summer in Huntington Beach, Ca. That's right, HB has more to offer than good surfing and overly-bronzed women. It plays host to one of the funniest events of the year, providing some of the best people watching I've ever seen in a wanna-be German town called, well, Germantown. You'll know you've arrived when you see the liederhosen-clad mannequins in the corner window posed in a somewhat quesitonable position. Wish I had a photo of that.

Upon arriving at the mostly-stucco, fake-cobblestone-lined 'town' (surreal I tell you), we were greeted with the yips of more than 50 weiner dogs. Sheer heaven.

But what was really great was the one-of-a-kind people watching. I expected it would be good, but the place was packed with neurotic weiner dog fans, each routing for their prized pup. Not only that, but the percentage of white trash weiner dog owners was very high. Here's a father-son duo sampling for your enjoyment...bringing the feel and speed of nascar to a much smaller venue...

So anyway, people took this event seriously. So seriously, in fact, that one couple even had a business card made...for their dog. That's right, their precious Baby Love had her own business card. Two actually--one for the movie she was featured in and one for her appearance in a local artist's exhibit. As you probably deduced, the couple was incredibly proud of their baby. They had an entire roller-suitcase full of accesories and such for the dog. She was clearly their pride and joy. And yes his shirt does say, "Beward of My Weiner."

Then there were the weiner-dog owners who actually aged wet cat food a month in advance to serve as incentive for the little guys to run full speed ahead. Take this scary woman in black, for example. She approached her pooch at the starting line every heat, and shoved the month-old delight in her dog's face. This resulted in a frenzy of flailing on the weiner dog's part, during which the woman would yell in a high-pitched voice, "Ya, come on! Ya!' combined with a dog-like howl. Yes this really happened. Every time.

Then, once her job was done, her husband would hold the dog close enough to whisper encouraging words of wisdom in its ear. Things like, 'Come on, you can do this! Win this baby, win this! Run to mama, run to mama!' And with each emphatic phrase, he would almost shake the dog, as if to REALLY pump the little guy up.

There were even times when the opposing weiner dog owners, standing side by side at the start line, would allow their dogs to 'fight' while holding them mid air. Apparently this gets them even more excited and ready to run.

I think my favorite moment, however, was watching this guy. After every heat, he'd get on his knees, wait for the weiner dogs to finish, and greet them with a congratulatory snack. He was so into it that he didn't notice Zach taking photos of him. Kim described his smile perfectly: "It kind of looks like an 'I love this race; come here little weiner dog and get some treats and then I'll kill you' smile."

In the end, a little brown and white pup named Hot Rod took first. And he deserved it; he was definitely the speediest of the bunch. It must have been the stench of that month-old surprise that won him the gold.

The best part about this event was the price. An hour-long festival of weiner dog madness for a buck. One dollar. Endless entertainment.

Enjoy the rest of these photos so eloquently captured by Zach and Gentry. Well done boys.

Need a Hero? Look no further.

For all of you who think weener dogs are only good for one thing--looking hilarious when running at full speed--you're right. And I think we can all agree that alone is worth purchasing one.

But in some cases, we find that weener dogs are worth far more than a good laugh, as was proved by Annie the weener dog recently when she heroically saved her owner. Sorta.

It just goes to show there's more to a long dog with short legs than meets the eye. Kinda like transformers.

Click the photo to watch the news segment...



Highlights for me: The owner's impression of the dog and the fact that the intersection where the incident occurred was Deemar and Mardee; hmmm...sounds like someone was strapped for unique street names...

Thanks to Audrey for sending me the link to this breaking news story... :)

Please don't try this at home...

I was reminded a couple nights ago of a serious issue we face in Utah. As my friend Kim and I entered a certain tourism agency, we were greeted by three receptionists, all of whom had big hair. The one in the middle, however, far outdid her friends. Her hair was, to be exact, Utah hair.

Now, for those of you who don't know, Utah hair is when a perfectly attractive woman makes herself less attractive (or as some would say, 'scary looking') by ratting her hair to the point where it stands a good four inches above her head all on its own. This requires lots of hair spray, lots of back-combing and a lack of honest friends.

Here we see a young girl who's mother threw her on the 'Utah Hair' train early on. Poor little thing will never know any different...



Some take it a step further, and instead of just ratting for volume, they actually rat their hair into a certain beehive shape. And it's not one of the glam-60's beehives we're talking about. It looks more like a ball, trapped under a layer of ratted hair on the back, top, or side of the head. Such was the case for our receptionist friend the other night, only she tripled her efforts. She had one beehive ball on each side of her head, and then one in the back. It was like a triangle of ratted love. If I knew her better, I might have simply called her 'triangle head'. Here's an example of the beehive ball, as captured by Kim (click on the photo to check out her Utah Hair blog). This lovely lady even added a mini pony tail to the back, making her head look like a hairy tadpole of sorts.



For me, this concept will never make sense. I can't figure out how people convince themselves that this looks good or natural. In fact, I think it's as unnatural (and equally as funny) as this:



or this:



And reminds me of a bad version of this:



So for anyone out there stuck with 'Utah Hair' syndrome, just know there's a way out. The first step is to wash your hair. Several times. Next you'll want to throw away your ratting comb and any hair spray you own. Then, simply brush through your hair (feels good, doesn't it?) and let nature do the rest. People might not gawk at you as much, but remember, it was never a good gawk to begin with---they were mostly just in awe of your hair. And by awe I mean they were laughing at you. Plain and simple.

Treat her right, ya'll

Recently I re-joined the ranks of SLC singles, so I thought for this post I'd find white trash break-up stories or something equally as funny to help with the breakup blues. Instead, I remembered that Mother's Day is coming up, and my friend Kim Frost sent me a truly touching video a few years back that really captures the essence of cherishing our dear mothers. It involves Mr. T, three soccer-mom backup singers, and a slew of horrible acting. Please enjoy viewing this fine production here:



So move over breakup blues. There's no room for sadness as I watch Mr T rap lyrics like, "Mothas. There are no othas."

Well said, Mr. T. Well said.

Just because. I needed something ridiculously cute to look at today. Thanks for the link, Ali!

Hangin' Out in Vegas

The girls and I decided to take a trip to Vegas last September, and just today I received a copy of a cherished photo from that trip. I thought you'd all want to share in this moment of dry heaving with me.

Picture this: four 20-something women, walking down the strip after a long and tiresome day of shopping. Battling the crowds, we made our way back the hotel. But before we reached our final destination, we got a special surprise. There, amidst the chaos, colors and street performers, we saw him. Bare Ass Man. Bass Man for short.

Bass man was leaned up against a railing on the sidewalk, his clothes tattered and worn. Suddenly, upon second glance, we noticed it; his ass. His bare ass. Hanging out of a giant hole in the back of his jeans.


Bass man seemed not to notice or care that his entire back side (and the fact that he doesn't wear underwear) was exposed. He was the antithesis to a never nude, as shown here by Tobias Funke.



Thanks to Lynze Wardle's expert photo skills for so elegantly capturing this Bass Man moment.

The Heat is On

It's recently been brought to my attention that this Friday, April 4th, 2008, will mark the best halftime show in the history of Utah Jazz basketball games: Weiner Dog Racing.

That's right, only a few days from now tiny weiner dogs will run full speed across the court for a chance to win big. I'm not really sure what it is they will win; all I know is that I will be there to witness it.

If I had a weiner dog I would probably race it using one of these 'wein-o-racers', as they are called. It reminds me of head gear, and I really, really wish I could see this thing in action. Really.

Toilet Trivia

Now, we've all been there. Those moments when nature calls, and we are bound to the bathroom for extended periods of time. Five mintues, 10 minutes...maybe even half an hour. But two years? Now that's just gross.

But two years was the reality for one Kansas woman who was recently found attached to her boyfriend's toilet after sitting on it for two years straight. Attached---as in, her skin had grown over the thing.

Apparently after her boyfriend brought her food and water daily for two years, he finally called the police and said, 'I think there's something wrong with my girlfriend.' Wow.

So why did he wait two years? I have my speculations. Part of me thinks it's one of those back-woods bragging rights things. Like, at their next BBQ, between bouts of drunkeness and discussions of the latest monster-truck rally, toilet-woman's boyfriend pipes up with something like,

'Hey man, check this out--my woman sat on ma toilet fer so long her ass done got attached to it. Like some kind of alien-ass-toilet thing. I aint shittin' ya, man--and I got the photos to prove it.'

OR maybe he held out in hopes that it would make for a good story to tell their kids.

'Hey baby, 'member that one time when you was on the toilet so long your ass grew 'round it? Now that's commitment, kids--you remember that.'

I guess I can't really understand why he didn't do something sooner, or how exactly she managed to sit like that for two years. But if she really wanted to do it, she should have thought about some better options.

She could have used a double-wide toilet to go with the trailer. That way she and her boyfriend could have had quality time together while she worked on becoming one with the toilet.











Or she could have at least been productive while on her toilet journey. Think of the millions she could have made trading stocks online.

















And last but not least, the best option for Toilet-Seat-Ass-Growers on the go. The TSAG seat (pronounced 'sag').















Check out the actual article. Straight-up creepy. http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,337232,00.html

Disclaimer: The fact that this happened in Kansas does not in any way reflect how all Kansans act (i.e. me).

Happy Dog

My brother, Trent, travels the world for his work. He's lived all over and seen a lot of cool things. To be honest, I am green with envy. While I sit at my desk and stare at the computer all day long, he's exploring places like Pataya, Thailand, hanging out with the likes of this obese weener dog.

Now, I'm not even sure it's a weener dog...but it looks like a giant, ridiculously-overweight version of one. It's sad, cute, funny and weird all rolled into one.

Trent fed him a hot dog and dubbed him the 'happiest dog in the world' since all he does is sit in the cafe and eat. I thought this picture might help you get through your Monday afternoon...at your computer. Ugh.

What do you get when you dress a weener dog up like a giraffe? Well, this.

Those of you who know me know that I am obsessed with weener dogs. I mean, what other dog looks this funny dressed up? And have you seen a weener dog run at full speed? Forget about it. There's nothing funnier.

Just thought I'd pass this along...anyone else got any funny dog-in-costume shots?

So, last night I was privileged to watch 'King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters', a documentary about the battle for the title of Donkey Kong World Champion.

I'm sure most of you have seen this by now and have already died laughing at the gaming-nerd idiosyncrasies displayed shamelessly throughout the flick ('There's a possible kill screen coming up if you want to see this!'). Who could forget characters like the guy who discovered fingerless weight-lifting gloves in the 80s and never stopped wearing them to protect from joy-stick calluses? And you probably had to hold your side when Billy Mitchel, the reigning world champion of Donkey Kong, compared his issues in the gaming industry to abortion issues and compared himself to God.

In an interview I found that was conducted by a guy named Pete Freedman, he asked Mitchell about his other world title, that of 'Pac Man World Champion'. Mitchell relayed the events that ensued upon claiming the title, which involved an appearance on an Asian game show where he was 'flanked' by security guards when escorted to the stage. His quote regarding the event is classic.I

"It was like rock star status," Mitchell said. "I felt like George Bush."

Excuse me? I don't think I have the words to describe how hard that made me laugh. But, in an effort to make YOU laugh, here's a clip from an interview with Bobby. Again, classic.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0kNMGtub30

If you haven't yet checked out this film, I highly recommend it. Hilarious.

Bad PDA, Good Photo Opp

As a society, there are dos and don'ts. Here's a big don't. It's an even bigger don't if you happen to be sitting this way in a crowded airport termainal, loudly discussing the sexual positions you tried on your honeymoon with you new spouse. True story. Sick and wrong, but true. Thank goodness for cell phone cameras...this shot is compliments of my sister.

Prom-tastic

There are times in life when you get so bored you think, "We should throw an 80s prom at our house." That time came and went Feb. 8th when I and about 75 others took a trip down memory lane with puffy sleeves, skinny ties, and of course, ankle boots.


Words can't really describe how hilarious the night was for me. The music was fantastic, everyone got busy on the dance floor in their rad get-ups, and to top it off, one guy wore a metallic gold, turtleneck Dickie. I was unaware, up to that point, that those were ever even manufactured.

In spite of the Dickie, he didn't win prom King. That went to the Miami-vice clad Dallas Browning, who apparently spent hours at DI and Target searching for just the right ensemble. And man did it pay off. He and his Queen, Bryn Arnell, took a turn dancing in the spotlight as prom royalty.

All in all, I think everyone had a good time and went home happy with a group shot to remember the night by (compliments of Dallas Graham, prom photographer). And I think I learned a really important lesson that night: no matter how tight-fitting or black a dress it, it will never look chic (or even good) with waist ruffles.

Wow. My First Blog.

So this is it. I finally lost my blogging virginity.


I'm not really sure what to write about, so I'll just highlight some funny moments from the week for you.


Funny Moment #1: The creature in my hair.

While fast asleep one night this week, I awoke to an oh-so-slight tugging on my hair. It was so subtle that it took a second for me to fully come to. For a moment I sat there, my heart panicked, thinking what could possibly be tugging at my hair. A mouse. A giant spider. A deranged stalker attempting to snip a lock of my hair.

Suddenly I hit that point where adrenaline takes over, and in spite of possibly coming into contact with one of the above and having to face them, I shot up and frantically ran my hands through my hair. Nothing.

I flipped on the light, terrified at what I would see lying on my bed or scampering to get away.

Still nothing.

I decided to do one more run-through with my fingers, and suddenly, something dropped. I screamed. I jumped. I flailed. There it was. My retainer.

I know what you're thinking. Retainer? The thing that keeps your teeth straight? In your hair?

See, I have this problem where I take my retainer out in my sleep and put it in random places. It's gone missing for days at a time before. And that night, I must have tangled it in my hair, and as it slid off the mattress, tugged my hair with it.


Funny Moment #2: Scary Mannequin

As I walked to Barnes and Noble on a work errand this week, I passed by Urban Outfitters. I vowed not to go in until I actually had money to spend, otherwise my self discipline goes out the window. So all I could do was look longingly at the artsy displays and uber trendy clothing.

I became enthralled with the 'set design' of the displays--and began thinking about how artistic clothing stores are getting these days. I turned the corner to see a stylishly-clad mannequin in the window. This one looked pretty lifelike, and my stare lingered while I passed. Suddenly the mannequin began wiping his nose and chewing gum. I almost peed my pants. My facial expressiong must have been classic. I mean, what would you do if a mannequin started moving? It was like an episode of 'Today's Special' gone bad.

Since when do real people stand in display windows?

That's all I got...for now.