RESPECT THE PONY: Observation? Rant...Warning? Pet Peeve!

Observation? Rant...Warning? Pet Peeve!

Current mood:aggravated

When I get peeved, I find a blog lets off a little steam...no, this is not about glitter, that is another blog, but this is an issue I feel almost as strongly about.

People...just because one has a ponytail does not give one license to pull it. If you are in an intimate surrounding with a long haired person, then maybe all bets are off, but in a public setting, PLEASE dont pull ponytails or get the wearers attention by dragging them by the ponytail backwards.

The ponytail is first, a body appendage, and second a decoration. You should no more pull me to you by my hair then you would any other appendage. Even grabbing one by the arm and pulling them to you is rude, but to do it with ones hair is another level of assholatry altogether. You dont pull me to you by my hair, and I wont pull you to me by your boobs, or cock.

The best aggravation can be likened to wearing a tie. A tie takes a bit of effort to get a good knot, then a little effort to keep it aligned and straight and comfortable. A ponytail is the same animal...you have to get it straight and centered, then comfortable to your head...not too tight, and not too loose. When someone then "affectionately" pulls you to them, it is like grabbing ones tie and pulling them to you...then the tie is all disheveled, the knot is way too tight and off center, and they have to walk away from you and greet the world with a disheveled appearance, much to their dismay. A ponytail works the exact same way.

Sure, accidents happen when you interface with people and that can be overlooked. People will touch or stroke your hair and that is completely fine...but if your handling of my hair makes me stop in my tracks, puts my neck in an unnatural angle or leaves my coif looking like I just got out of bed, you have crossed a line.

Treat the ponies with respect my peeps...and never wear glitter. LOL.

Interesting Observation

Current mood:surprised

Had the radio on last night listening to an interview with Bill Cosby. Cosby was born in 1937, which has him celebrating his 70th birthday. Cosby is 28 years older than me (42).

Interesting observation to me was that Cosby's father, and my father were both born in the same year. I always knew I was a late in life baby, but that gave me pause to reflect and think: "Dayummm". LOL.

Just got me thinking more as I look thru these photos...

Early Pics Of Me

Current mood:nostalgic

Found some early Harry pics, so thought I would share...

Here is what I believe to be my earliest pic...

And, proving further I have always been about the wheels, as I posted in my "car blog":

......

Looks like lots more where these came from, but this is all for now!

Only Now Beginning To See The Humor In This...

Current mood:aggravated

Lori had her van in the shop and had been driving my spare. We were planning to go pick her van up from the shop Saturday morning. Since she was driving the spare Dodge van, which Foster feels is his, he was chomping at the bit to get to the van. I didnt see any reason not to have him tag along, so away the 3 of us went.

We got to the mechanic's shop and I parked in the shade, but Foster wasn't hearing about sitting in the van, so I let him out with me, and he obediently stayed nearby, which had me very happy that he was becoming such a responsible lad. I paid for the repairs and was preparing to send Lori on her way, when we got involved with more talks about her car. Meanwhile Foster had gotten out of sight for a couple of minutes.

Out the back door of the shop, there is a white clay driveway, with a puddle in it that was full of grease, oil and solvents where apparantly some parts had been being cleaned, combined with recent rainwater. Either way, it was something you definitely would not want to step in.

Unless you're Foster, in which case you dive in head first and roll in it. I called for him, and he came in the back door dripping oily water, and black to the sight. Sailors should not have heard what I was saying, and somehow his new name became "Asshole".

So, I had to take him to the car wash area to get him clean enough to transport, then after he dried a bit, loaded him into the van, and took him home to the front yard. He was banished there until we could prepare to bathe him with Dawn dishwashing liquid. If it was good enough for the animals from the Valdez spill, it is good enough for Foster...and quite effective. Two washes later, with a good high pressure hosing down, he seems good as new.

I was fit to be tied. Today I am starting to see the humor in it...when he walked in dirty, it was like a movie scene...just unbelievable. He knew he pissed me off, but he killed me with kindness for the rest of the day, do I guess we are OK now, LOL. How can you not like him for long?