Tag Archives: Full House

Set Your DVRs. TONIGHT.

Oh. Oh-hoh-oh-oh-oh.

CHIPMUNKS.

Sometimes, friends send you things on Facebook that they think SCREAMS you, and you think, “Meh. Okay.” Or “Yeah, that’s cute.”

But sometimes, friends send you things on Facebook that change your life.

For the better.

On Wednesday, I received the following Facebook intel from both my BFF, Jenn, and my blog bud, freshveggies/gingerleaphotography:

Jesse-and-the-Rippers

YES. YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY.

Jesse and the Rippers are performing on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. tonighT. (click for more info.)

Jesse and the Rippers!

As in, Uncle Jesse from Full House!

That'd be me.

That’d be me.

My beloved dog’s name sake!

This is…

…this is…

A decision I did NOT take lightly.

A decision I did NOT take lightly.

No. There are no words.

What…what are you waiting for? Go set your DVR! (I say “set your DVR” because I assume that, like me, you a) go to bed at 8:30pm, and b) with great pain, deleted a high-def version of Sharknad0, and now have room on your DVR.)

You’re welcome.

What TV characters from your youth would you poop a brick to see brought back to life on a late night talk show?

P.S. – If you need a distraction from counting the seconds ’til this airs, why not travel back in time and watch my AMAZING Uncle Jesse (man) / Uncle Jesse (dog) tribute video?

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About these ads

Dogs Are Better Than Babies. So Trade Yours, Don.

Today things get ugly. As ugly as your babies. I kid, I kid.

Grab your boxing gloves, Chipmunks, because Don, of don of all trades, and I are going head-to-head over:

Dogs vs. Babies

Dogs-vs-Babies-Don-Jules

We each get up to ten points to make our case. Don may be a father, lawyer and cop, but totally lets me boss him around little does this man-of-allegedly-every-occupation know, I have experience in blog debates. Many moons ago, Third Husband proposed we discuss the merits (or lack thereof) of Glee, and I think we can all agree that after taking a slushie to the face, I emerged the clear victor.

Sweet, sweet, cherry-flavored victory.

Sweet, sweet, cherry-flavored victory.

I’m a little scared to read Don’s opposing argument, though. Not because I’m worried about valid points, god no, but because he’s a shamelessly verbose, terrible person with zero filter; there’s no telling where he’ll take this. He’s already cursed and posted fake sonogram pictures on my Facebook wall, sending both my mother and mother-in-law into a frenzy:

Don's caption? "Awesome...SOOOOOO excited for you guys!!"

Don’s caption? “Awesome…SOOOOOO excited for you guys!!”

So, Don. As much as I like to play dirty, get your mind out of the gutter and grab the leash (that one’s just killing you, isn’t it?). By the time you’re through reading this, you’ll be ready to trade your ten thousand sticky offspring for a downy-soft ‘doodle.

Why Dogs Doodles Are Better Than Babies

1. They sleep a lot.

Like, a lot a lot. Soooo much.

Like, a lot a lot. Soooo much.

2. They’re not smart enough for college (can you spell S-A-V-I-N-G-S?).

Dogs-vs-Babies-Uncle-Jesse-scholar

3. They don’t bug you when you’re hungover sick.

I'll be here. If you need me. Remote's by your pillow.

I’ll be here. If you need me. Remote’s by your pillow.

4. They understand Full House quotes at 10 weeks old.

5. You get to pick the cartoons / car music.

None of this creepy sh*t.

None of this creepy sh*t.

6. No back talk.

Though they may judge you with their incredibly soulful eyes.

Just incredibly telling soulful gazes.

7. Chick / Hunk magnet.

We are a HUGE hit with the neighborhood AARF AARP, crowd.

HUGE hit with the neighborhood AARF, I mean, AARP crowd.

8. As long as you feed them regularly, they don’t judge your alcohol dependency.

Okay maybe a little.

I think he’s just hungry.

9. You get to pick their halloween costumes. Indefinitely.

Hakuna matata, dog owners. DYFS is just for humans.

Hakuna matata, dog owners. DYFS is just for humans.

10. You don’t have to deal with other dogs’ parents if you don’t want to.

Although everyone knows 'dog people' are a superior breed.

Although everyone knows ‘dog people’ are a superior breed.

Note how I kept this nice and short, for your reading pleasure. Because I care about you, and respect your time, Debate Decision-makers. Unlike some people.

I look forward to hearing how right I am. (In case you missed it, here’s the link to Don’s inferior opposing argument.)

Did I miss any reasons why dogs are better than rug rats?

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What Do You Get For the Australian Labradoodle Who Has Everything?

Dear Uncle Jesse,

I’m not sure you’ll recognize that today is special, when we shower you with gourmet, organic treats, long walks and hour-long massages. Or when we coo over and over again, ‘He’s a good man. That’s a good man. Who’s the best man?’

ToastToTwitterers

Oh. Is this not an appropriate excuse to drink champagne?

But it’s true!

Today’s your 3rd birthday!

Birthday surprises from your BFF, Shunderson!

Birthday surprises from your BFF, Shunderson!

Already you’ve been with us for 2 years, 9 months and 28 days. Now’s not the time to talk of my guilt over your silver-spooned upbringing, but rather to praise your genetic superiority and extremely reputable entry into this world thanks to your mother’s tireless research and your father’s stubborn allergies.

We named you after John Stamos’ character on Full House because we knew you were destined to be the cool one. And have great hair.

Have mercy

Have mercy.

Here are just a few of the things we love about you, Uncle Jesse:

BlogHer12-hotpocket-UncleJYou fetch your Hot Pocket toy when we sing the jingle (“Ho-ot Pocket!”).

You dry your tongue on our pants after you take a drink.

You have access to your kibble all day, every day,UncleJesse_eatslyingdown2 and only eat it when we sit down to dinner; then you nosh lying down.

You help Dad tune the guitar when he gets to the 4th string, every time.

You learned how to do Full House-themed tricks at 9 1/2 weeks old.

 (If people don’t believe the last two, they should play thE video!)

Uncle-Jesse-Tucked-Paws

Please stop touching me.

If you disapprove of someone’s petting methods, you lick them aggressively to correct the faux paw pas. They mistake this for affection. I’m sorry we blew up your spot, but you do it to us, too, you ungrateful bastard well-bred specimen.

Hello, Ceiling Fan.

Hello, Ceiling Fan.

Your legs are super long and your paws are incredibly fancy, especially when you tuck them under, or cross them just so.

You’re convinced the bedroom ceiling fan is possessed and/or omnipotent. If it’s been too quiet for too long, or something is otherwise amiss, we catch you staring at it dubiously.

I hope you enjoy this birthday tribute video I made especially for you:

Love,

Your doting and equally adorable mother

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So what do you get for the Australian Labradoodle who has everything? Well, you can make like a Shel Silverstein tree, and give. Please join me in helping friend and fellow blogger, Valerie from Nikitaland:

2013-pledge-for-pets-button

Note: The ad below the Pledge for Pets button is not part of this post.

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Happy Independence Day!

To my fellow Americans, and anyone else who believes in freedom, equality and really, REALLY good barbecue…

Happy Independence Day!

I wasn’t going to post today, but Uncle Jesse had something to tell you:

Any plans for today? How mad are you that we have to go back to work tomorrow (if you don’t, listen, don’t be a snot-bucket and rub it in)?

Holy Sh*t, That’s My Dog!

Long Introduction

Have Mercy

As you might recall, one of Uncle Jesse’s first tricks was, “Watch the hair, huh!” (An homage to his Full House namesake.) My jaw-droppingly expensive multi-generational Australian Labradoodle was 9-10 weeks old when he mastered this delightful ditty, immediately justifying his price tag.

Since then, I’ve come up with all kinds of ways to amuse myself at his expense. Mostly in the form of nicknames, which change on at least a biweekly basis*. (Current nickname: Schnoodle. Because he looks like a noodle, it rhymes with poodle, and he’s just so darn…schnoodly. Don’t you think?)

We also call him a ‘man’ instead of a ‘boy’. He’s a good man. A smart man. “Come here,

A Schnoodly man

man.” Along with his name, it tends to confuse people, so we keep doing it.

I also like replacing dog-related phrases and commands with things that are ticklier to my fancy. “Fetch,” for example, has become an appreciative, “Thank you.” As in, “Thank you in advance for bringing me that toy. It was so very kind of you.” Works like a charm.

Short Introduction

My favorite canine comic relief comes from what we say instead of, “Wanna go for a walk?” Instead we simply shout, with appropriate fervor, “Holy shit!” No explanation necessary. Just watch:


*P.S. – For the record, yes, he does answer to “Uncle Jesse”. No one ever believes me!

P.P.S. – We plan on dressing him up as a wedge of cheese this Halloween. Get it? A Cheese DOODLE! Also works for an Uncle Sam costume: A Yankee DOODLE!

Fountain of Uncouth

Let’s see. We’ve already covered the fact that I was an extra on “Dawson’s Creek,” am obsessed with Glee, Harry Potter and little miss pageants, and that I named my dog after a “Full House” character. You might be thinking this well’s about to dry up.

Nay, friends, I’ve only just begun. (It certainly helps that blogging about guilty pleasures is, in and of itself, a guilty pleasure. That shouldn’t be allowed. It’s like trying to stare at the sun.)

Here are a mere few of the things I plan to bring to your [rapt] attention over the coming weeks. (Please feel free to express your gratitude by subscribing. Or by sending pictures of animals dressed as other animals.)

1. What to expect if you see Daniel Radcliffe naked, live, as I have.

2. What NOT to say if someone asks if you want to attend a week-long Project Management Boot Camp in Blue Bell, Pennsylvania.

3. 9021-Oh My God.

4. Robert Pattinson SINGS! (Holy sh*t, how have I not gotten to this yet!?)

5. My Plan to Save Mankind, a.k.a. The Power of Haikus

6. MY MOST SHAMEFUL GUILTY PLEASURE OF. ALL. TIME.

See you on the flip side, Crackers (have you not tried these yet?)!

Forever and Ever

We had our breeder picked out before the puppies were born, and it was a long waiting process until at long last Uncle Jesse, our precious Australian Labradoodle, came to live with us.

When the puppies turned 7 weeks old, we were told which one would be ours, and I thought it only fitting to make a tribute video to occupy me until we could pick him up 1 week later.

(Special thanks to Beth!)