Poodle Philosophy 101: Part 2

Good girls know that two heads are better than one when it comes to bird watching.

Bird chasing, on the other paw, is every poodle for herself.

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This week I was forced to swerve my car because the driver in front of me had was braking to avoid two deer. No, this was not on the highway as you might expect, but in a Food Lion parking lot. It can't be a coincidence that deer would be invading our shopping centers as we gear up for the merchandising bonanza that is Halloween. That's right: deer are out for your candy. And they'll take it any way they can get it.

This insidious menace is only the latest escalation in the Great Deer Uprising of 2010. Unable to enter the city of Newnan legally, the deer are now resorting to a crafty ruse in order to sneak into town under cover of darkness and steal the candy that our children earned the hard way: by going door to door and extorting it under threat of violence!

If we let the deer get away with this, we'll only be letting the terrorists win! (Terrorist deer, that is. Make no mistake, terrorist children should still encouraged: it's the American way!) So this year, check under that mask when a cute ne'er-do-well comes banging on your door. There's a chance you'll find that he just may not be human. Far worse than zombies or vampires, he could be a deer in disguise!

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I suppose if you know that your product isn't exactly cutting edge, you might as well embrace your squareness. Cue Snuggie:

Attention: Snuggie manufacturer, the Macarena was a one-hit wonder in 1995. You might as well be advertising your product with disco. No, wait. Don't do that. Dammit. Don't listen to me.

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Poodle Philosophy 101: Part 1

Victoria always takes the opportunity to smell the roses. And squirrels.

July bites off only as much as she can chew. In this mouthful.

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Despite my guess that his surname was Sailorman (pronounced SAY-ler-mun, of course), it seems that the eternally surly Popeye has no last name. That surprises me mainly because the character is over 80 years old. (Chronologically, anyway. According to his copyright holders, he's officially 34, and has been for a very, very long time.) Older fictional characters tend to pick up a lot of baggage as their stories expand infinitely. Somehow, Popeye's baggage hasn't included any name tags.

For example, over the years Popeye has picked up a father, Poopdeck Pappy (a nickname, as Popeye is definitely not Popeye Pappy), and a grandmother, Granny (last name long forgotten). In addition to adopting a son he affectionately calls Swee'Pea, Popeye has sired a son with Olive named Popeye, Jr. (If Popeye is missing a last name, there must be Oyl on Junior's Social Security Card.) Popeye has even helped raise his unfortunately named quintuplet nephews Pipeye, Pupeye, Poopeye, and Peepeye. (Since Popeye has no siblings and Olive has no sisters, they must also be Oyls. That's a lot of Oyl!)

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Stop the presses! Word just reached me that Simon MacCorkindale, television's Manimal, died last week while I wasn't paying attention. Now I'll never get a Manimal action figure!

If you don't remember, Manimal was about the white son of a jedi who was taught by African witch-doctors to change himself into any animal he desired (so long as it was a panther or falcon). Here, I'll let William Conrad explain:

I know what you're thinking: with a premise like that, how could that show have only lasted 8 episodes? I'm sure it was jealousy on the part of network executives. In addition to the roguishly charming MacCorkindale (fresh off the super mega-hit Jaws 3D in which he played the roguishly charming shark bait), the show had a Glen Larson pedigree. That's a formula for television gold. And it was.

But alas. All great things must come to an end, and so does the career of Simon MacCorkindale. In this case quite literally: he died of bowel cancer. Ouch.

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The Times-Herald reports that the Newnan police department is adding to it's repertoire of offbeat crime fighting techniques by hiring a talking golf cart.

You may recall that earlier this year, the Newnan police apprehended a suspect thanks to the timely assistance of a psychic. (Nevermind that the charges were eventually dropped due to lack of evidence. Damn the courts for not recognizing psychic evidence!) Now Police Chief Buster Meadows welcomes Officer Auto to the force. While I applaud his attempt at equal opportunity employment, I'm not so sure that this is the right pace to set for the force.

Officer Auto -- if that is it's real name -- is a cast off from the Department of Defense. There must be plenty of automobiles looking for work in this down economy. Couldn't we do better than Uncle Sam's lemons? Even Chrysler got a bailout, but we got stuck with a used golf cart?

This rookie is supposed to be assigned to a crack detail that will visit locak elementary schools. But it turns out that the upgrades that give Officer Auto its voice were paid for by donations from drug dealers. This new cop hasn't even hit the streets yet, and he's already on the take! We certainly don't need that kind of moral corrosion dropping by our students' classrooms to give them a lift. Officer Auto? More like Speed buggy!

I say it's time we take back the streets, and give Officer Auto the boot! Let's put the brakes on this situation before it can gain traction in our community.

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We came to Athens for the crowning of a new king, and we stayed for something that vaguely resembled football.

Vanderbilt perfectly played the role of the walkover Homecoming guest, allowing Georgia to hang 43 unanswered points on them in the completely one-sided rout. Unlike Tennessee last week, which was reeling from a crushing loss at LSU, Vanderbilt was just plain bad: outplayed in all phases of the game. If you didn't know better, you'd think that Georgia was actually good. (But we know better: Georgia blew through all of their first half timeouts in the first 5:16 of the 1st quarter. The crowd held it's breath, relaxing only once it became clear that Vandy hadn't really come to play.)

But no one seemed too disappointed that the game wasn't competitive. Most of the crowd, my mother included, had come to the stadium solely to see the coronation collaring ceremony for Uga VIII (nee Big Bad Bruce). Uga VIII, less than a year old, seemed a little understandably overwhelmed by the crowd, cameras, and noise. Russ, however, seemed relieved to be free of the burden of having to watch the Dawgs play any more football.

Earlier in the week, Athletic Director Greg McGarity said that Uga represents "everything we want our student-athletes and fans to be: proud, loyal, tenacious, and relentless." I can't speak for any bulldogs, but I for one am proud to recognize that three of those words are nearly synonyms for stubborn.

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They're back! Just when you thought it was safe to return to the roads, the deer are striking back as the Great Deer Uprising of 2010 continues.

At 8:27PM on Tuesday night, a deer struck a motorist, sending the car out of control across traffic, ultimately resulting in the death of the driver. It's no coincidence that the car the deer chose to strike was an Oldsmobile Intrigue. Reports The Times-Herald:

[A] witness in a separate vehicle saw [the] vehicle strike the deer and lose control. The first Coweta County firefighter to arrive at the scene also saw the deer lying injured beside the road before the animal recovered and ran off.
...
"There is no doubt she struck the deer," [Georgia State Patrol Sgt. Lance] Greene said. "That's what caused her to lose control."

It ran off! The saboteur is still on the loose!

The attack took place just outside of the city limits where deer are legally allowed to congregate beyond the jurisdiction of the Newnan city ordinance prohibiting wild animals (see February 12, 2010 for details). As a result, no charges will be filed in the case, according to Sgt. Greene. Those clever bastards! They are using our own laws (and cars) against us!

Will this reign of deer terror never end?

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