To discuss a blogaversary: Two years, and no need for Viagra yet

First of all, a confession. I am writing this in my underwear. I don't want to hide anything from you, so I thought I'd put it out there.

Maybe that's how comfortable I've become blogging since Aug. 1, 2008. That's when I started Wild ARS Chase, at the time having no idea how to blog but wanting some excuse to write down all the things that pop in my head. A snippet of that first entry, about a college-age guy trying to tell me how to pick up women:

"He’s telling me he can help me learn how to pick up women (oh, the advice I need... of course, he's what I like to call "in shape" and "handsome," which helps. I'm what I like to call "the wingman"). I’m thinking, dude, when I was your age, we were doing old school flirting. Instant message style. Emoticons. ;). Bam. That's a relationship right there. :o) ... can you resist that?"

Since then, I :

• Had nearly a two-year relationship with Capricorn
• Took my dog to the vet numerous times, with Bailey racking up ridiculous bills
• Moved to a different part of town
• Performed in two different musicals
• Became an uncle
• Wrote more than 425 blog posts (Here's last year's recap of my first year of blogging, which included some of my favorite posts, such as my Snuggie review and the big fake Cosmo magazine Ben and I put together)
• Started a new relationship

I haven't given many details at all about that last facet, in part because it was really tough telling all of you about Capricorn and I breaking up, as if the two of you were breaking up, too. That's why it's weird to talk about your relationships on a blog.

But I'd still like to give you a few details: She's an elementary school teacher ... She is doing a musical with me ... She has a wonderful singing voice ... She and Bailey get along splendidly ... As for a nickname, I've settled on Belle. Why Belle? Well, she played that character in "Beauty and the Beast." Thankfully, she didn't play Gaston, because that would just be a weird blogging nickname. Or an awesome one. Hmmm...

In the meantime, let me offer you some of my favorite posts of the past year:

• A fake House Hunters episode (which got a comment from the real life former host of the show, Suzanne Whang).
• A remake of the terrible Christmas Shoes song
• One of my most commented on posts was this one, which allowed everyone to update each other on new URLs for their blogs or other changes, as it seems it's almost impossible to keep up with everything.
• My ode to healthy dog food, which helped inspire some of you to change what you feed your dog.
• And finally, Things I Know at Age 27.

Who knows what will happen in this next year, but I do plan to write as much as I can (and that will increase once I wrap up Music Man, the second of back-to-back musicals I'm doing). What are my other plans this blogging year? Well, I'm going to make a foray into stand-up comedy at some point, just to say I did it. And I also am sure Bailey will need to go to the vet at some point. Oh, and I'll probably give my nephew the sex talk. Busy year.

To discuss 50 (more) things about me

There have been some new readers in recent weeks, even as I've had to slow down blogging a bit. For them, and for people who have been reading for months but only because their browser is frozen and they can't get the hell out of here, I offer you 50 Things About Me. Consider it a follow-up to the 100 Things About Me post I did in November 2008 as part of "Get to Know Me" week, although much has changed since then.

1. I recently started introducing myself as Andrew instead of Andy
2. It's to make me sound more mature and older.
3. Actually, why aren't I introducing myself as "Zeus"?
4. In the past 8 years, I have been in two relationships that lasted a combined 6 years.
5. Good God.
6. I now live alone with my chiweenie, Bailey
7. Bailey has never paid rent or paid me back for his medical bills, as he is holding out hope Obama's health care plan eventually will extend to toy dogs.
8. Last time I did this 100 Things list, I thought Natalie Portman, Lacey Chabert and Helen Hunt were some of the prettiest actresses around. Still are.
9. But I'd like to add Emmanuelle Chriqui and Kate Beckinsale to that list.
10. Not Megan Fox. She's the girl in high school that knew she was hot and flirted with the geeks to get them to do stuff for her.
11. I was a geek.
12. Am.
13. Was.
14. Fine, am. Happy?
15. Speaking of which, I still do musicals, even though logic would say it's not smart to do a full-time job and a show at the same time.
16. But when you love to perform in front of people and are not currently a stripper, your options are limited.
17. So I'm doing a two-month run of "1776," followed by a two-month run of "Music Man," followed by a two-month run of "Sleep Deprivation."
18. At some point, I've promised myself I'd do at least one open mic night at a comedy club.
19. I have no idea how to do stand-up comedy, but I am often standing up when telling jokes, so that must be a head start.
20. I have a feeling that I'd either do fantastic at stand-up comedy, or bomb horrifically, with no middle ground.
21. But if I bomb, I'd just strip naked, as everything is funnier naked when you're a guy.
22. The male body is very funny looking, really. God gave women all the good parts.
23. Hence the reason there aren't male models in the Victoria's Secret fashion show.
24. Although I have a fierce walk from watching tons of "Top Model" and would probably do well.
25. ... that was the gayest thing I've said in some time.
26. I recently won a statewide award for journalism
27. I recently won a merit award at work
28. But let's be honest. My Participation Ribbon at my Boy Scouts Pinewood Derby in third grade is what needs to be included in my obituary.
29. I hope the Boy Scouts have since become more environmentally friendly and made their derby cars hybrid models.
30. I have both a clear idea and no clue whatsoever what I'll be doing at this point in five years.
31. I think that comes with being 27.
32. When life expectency was, say, 50 in the 1600s, did 14-year-old boys worry about their 401k's, too?
33. Did 20-year-old boys hit on 13-year-old girls because the 14-year-old girls were too old? How did that work?
34. What did those same people in the 1600s do to pass the time when they were waiting in line for something? They couldn't check their Facebook page, text or Google anything. But their cell phone bills must have been so cheap. It evens out, I suppose.
35. These are the thoughts I have on an almost daily basis.
36. At some point, I will give "Glee" another try. Not yet, though.
37. But if I do, then you need to give one of the following a try: "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia"; "Treme"; or "Modern Family." Deal?
38. Shows that have jumped the shark: "American Idol"; "Real Housewives of NYC and of OC"; "The Office" (somewhat); "Real World"
39. When Christina Aguilera was preparing for her MTV Movie Awards performance, who on her crew said, "You know what this performance is missing? A glow heart on her vagina."?
40. Did Jennifer Love Hewitt see Christina's light-up hoo-hoo, look down at her own vajazzled ladypart, and think, "What's a girl gotta do to keep her private parts up on the trends these days?"
41. These are other thoughts I have on an almost daily basis.
42. I believe God designed men and women. But what was the purpose of making us have to use the bathroom all the time? He couldn't have invented a more time-efficient method?
43. Things I do every day: Snack. Check my e-mail. Read about Pittsburgh sports teams. Think about something sexual at an inappropriate moment and then reassure myself it's only natural. Sing. Walk my dog.
44. At no point during the pet adoption process do they tell you that you will become intimately involved with the mannerisms of your dog's sphincter as a method of forecasting bowel movements. But it's true.
45. Oops, did I kill the mood?
46. You know what's a good reality show that VH1 should bring back? The Pickup Artist.

47. I wish I got outraged more. It's hard to get a good rage going about anything, even if there are oil spills, shootings and bombings all the time.

48. I do get outraged at, say, the cable company, but I am worried that's not what people mean when they ask for outrage at social injustices.

49. Even when I don't get to post all the time, I still love that you guys keep coming back.

50. But please let me know if my blog jumps the shark ... Actually, don't. Sharks are awesome.

Now please do your own list, so I can catch up with what you've doing.
I'll link you here. Pinky swear.
Natballs put hers up. Gold star for you, Natballs. Just don't get her started on "True Blood."
Spleeness did a mini-15 things list, and it includes things you may never want to know.
Awesome things. Here it is.
SamIAm, my former college classmate, did a 50 Things list, too.

To discuss my dog getting the veterinary equivalent of the Purple Heart

Yes, I know 16 and Preggers was on last night. I'll recap it soon, but since MTV reruns its shows like crazy, it's not as pressing to churn it out asap. Right? If you'd rather always get them the morning after, let me know ... I did do a Bachelor finale recap over here.
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I hate to brag, but I don't see any of your pets with a freaking
CERTIFICATE OF BRAVERY.

Here's what I didn't know as recently as a month ago. You should be brushing your dog's teeth every day or they'll get gum diseases and baby Jesus cries. At least that's what I think the vet told me. All I remember is a Charlie Brownish "Waa wa waaa wa Bailey needs dental work wa waaa wa his teeth make hobos look like Ryan Seacrest wa waa wa Lucy and Peppermint Patty were lesbian trailblazers."

So yesterday, Bailey the chiweenie went in for dental surgery, or periodontal surgery as they call it in the biz. Since dogs have to undergo general anesthesia, this is a somewhat risky proposition. Compounding that, Bailey has a heart murmur that makes his heart beat sound like Missy Elliott's "Get Ur Freak On."

That means in addition to the regular costs and procedures, he needed to get extra tests done, the vet said (i.e., the vet needs a new pair of shoes). What are you going to do, say, "No, I think we should just gamble on this one. They do it on Grey's Anatomy all the time, and the worst that happens is someone bangs Izzie."

Bailey has had a long history at the vet (there's this, and this, for starters), but this was the most extreme thing he's had done. When I picked him up that afternoon, he looked so sad and pathetic I was worried Sarah McLachlan was going to try to get him sponsored.

They pulled four or five teeth- I'd tell you exactly but I haven't been able to get a good look in his mouth, as I don't want to hurt him. I do wonder why he didn't opt to get grillz. This photo is a good a look as I'll get for now, and you can tell there are gaps. On the plus side, his teeth are now much, much whiter and don't make me think of hobgoblins and the Black Plague.

The vet gave him a Certificate of Bravery for the "courage he displayed" during surgery. And by that, they mean he was out like a light and didn't bite them afterward.

But an award is an award. I'll celebrate with Bailey just as soon as he stops dabbing mouth blood on my blanket.

Total vet bill: About$ $525. I'll add it to Bailey's tab.

To discuss Dog Food Nation Part II: Montezuma's Carpet Revenge

I was just about to retire* for the night (* Retire sounds so much cooler than "going to bed) late last week, with Capricorn already fast asleep and both Leo and Bailey snuggled in on the bed.

I had already walked the dogs, washed my face, brushed my teeth and changed into my Muppet pajamasnightwear, ready for some sleep.

I turned off the light. I let Bailey get his customary position behind the crook of my knees. I closed my eyes.

*Pfffflttaat*

What the ...

* Pffffflluuuttttooooggghhhh*

Like the protagonist in 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, I threw open the covers and the sash and all that jazz, turned on the light and tried to figure out what was going on. Capricorn was asleep. Bailey was curled up like a dried leaf. That leaves...

Col. Mustard in the drawing room with the candlestick!

Errrr... Leo!

Before I could get visual confirmation, I got olfactory confirmation. Something stank up in this mother. Like if Ursula from Little Mermaid beached herself and rotted.

I peered under the bed. Leo scampered out, leaving behind such stunningly obvious evidence you wouldn't need CSI: Las Vegas to take an hour to solve this crime (CSI: Montana, maybe). Quickly, I grabbed Leo and raced him outside, where, in the night's blustery, frigid weather, he had a contest with Mother Nature on who could break the most wind.

Then, back inside, I had to scrub the carpet, while Capricorn in her half-awake daze tried to figure out what was going on.

For the rest of the weekend, we've been laughing like 5th graders every time we make a whoopee cushion sound and say Leo's belly must be hurting again.

Leo's Montezuma's Carpet Revenge was a signal for change (and for more Febreze).

Two weeks ago, I wrote about how LoveMaegan helped inspire us to give our dogs better food. We had fed them Pedigree, which we now realize has all types of mediocre ingredients. We switched to Evo, which has ingredients that practically would make a Thanksgiving feast: Turkey, Chicken, Blueberries, Tomatoes, Apples, and more.

But it also turns out that some dogs, namely ours, can't handle the richness of it. Even though we mixed their food with the old stuff, we basically had a couple weeks worth of Taco Bell's bathroom. Not that it's Evo's fault- dog food is very finicky that way.

So on Saturday, I returned the giant bag of Evo to the pet store, thankful that I had kept the receipt, and that Evo's company has a satisfaction guarantee. In its place, I got a product that had been number 2 on my list, and in the top 10 of many reputable dog food reviews: Solid Gold.

It's a little less protein rich, which should help. And its first ingredient (dog foods should always have a meat for the first ingredient) is bison, which will come in handy if we ever traverse the Oregon Trail and run out of bullets.

We'll see how this goes. I'd prefer it if I didn't hear any more canine flatulence. And I'm also taking Bailey to the vet Tuesday for dental work, because on a scale of 1 to Crystal Bowersox,* he's the American Idol frontrunner. (* P.S. Love her singing. So there's that.).

He has to go under anesthesia and might even have to get teeth pulled, which could render all this new dry dog food irrelevant if I have to spoon feed him like an elderly man.

That sums up my life- spoon feeding my elderly man/chiweenie.

If you're interested in how your dog's food holds up, check out dogfoodanalysis.com. If you don't have a dog, might I interest you in a flatulent, rectally explosive chihuahua?

To discuss Dog Food Nation

Rather than inundate you with another sappy/romantic/depressing/sexygoodtime Valentine's Day post, I'll let the other, more capable bloggers take care of that.

Instead, let's take a look at a far more important topic: Motherf****** dog nutrition.

Why was I worried about this on a lover's weekend? Let me recap (apologies for the length). Quick note: None of the following is meant to give anyone a guilt trip about what you feed your dog. Feed them whatever you want. Except kittens. That would be double-sad.

I took Bailey (my chiweenie, for new readers), to the vet last week for his booster shots, which, if you think about it, are kind of a sham because you have no idea what they are injecting. They could be injecting H1N1 for all I know and charging me $90. At that point, the vet pointed out Bailey's teeth look how Keith Richards feels. Rotting. Discolored. Diseased.* (* Clarification: Bailey's disease is probably gingivitis; Richards is probably chlamydia).

As this is one of the rare times in a vet visit in which the owner can physically see that yes, there's a problem and yes, it makes sense to fix it, I've made a follow-up appointment for Bailey to get dental work. Do they do doggie veneers? I can make him a Bailey Seacrest.

That all coincided with Capricorn coming across a blog post on one of her favorite fashion bloggers, LoveMaegan, whose pug had 13 (!) teeth pulled recently (feel better Bebop). She also saw a related, older post Maegan had about the lack of nutrition in most commercial dog food (it's akin to reading Fast Food Nation, basically, without the Super Size Me movie spinoff)

That led to Capricorn and I thinking about what we feed Bailey and Leo (also a chihuahua, unless you ask Capricorn, who believes Leo is a dog version of Jesus Christ, as he is sinless).

Like most people, we beat our dogs senseless want the best for our dogs, but have a limited budget. So, for many months we have fed the dogs Pedigree dry food. According to the package, Pedigree Adult Complete Nutrition offers essential vitamins, is flavorful, offers all types of quality ingredients, gives dogs the ability to do it all night long, and prevents forest fires. And Pedigree also got Comet from Full House as a spokesdog, judging by the package. For about $27 for a 40-pound bag, it's a deal, too. I'd practically eat it for that price (it's a recession, after all).

Have you ever had someone who owns a dog talk to you about what you're feeding your dog in that condescending manner? "Oh... so you're feeding them (fill in the blank basic store brand)? I feed MY dog only the best- fresh chicken, organic vegetables, recently beheaded cows..."

Usually I see this coming ahead of time, and I just say I can't remember what brand it is, but that I'm about to get a better brand soon because otherwise I must hate my dog. "Ha ha, right-o, jolly good!" they reply (in these scenarios, the people sound British in my head). But I never did switch, because I figured I wasn't feeding the dogs Ol' Roy like I'm Cousin Eddie from Christmas Vacation. How bad could it be? Bailey hadn't yet appeared emaciated and in need of sponsorship for just 10 cents a day, and Leo never filed any complaints in the complaint box located next to the food dish.

For the first time, I decided to take a look at the ingredients on the Pedigree bag. It was kind of like seeing how they make hot dogs- once you know, you're not sure you could feed one to somebody again. Here are some of the top ingredients in Pedigree:

Ground Whole Corn, Meat And Bone Meal, Ground Whole Wheat, Corn Gluten Meal, Animal Fat (preserved With BHA and Citric Acid), Wheat Mill Run, Chicken By-product Meal.

So as not to gross everyone out, I won't detail here what "meat and bone meal" is, but let's just say it's not a euphemism for oral sex. And, from what I learned during extensive research (when I research something, I research the shit out of it), dogs can't process corn, so having corn as some of the primary ingredients is as silly as a subprime mortgage. Chicken by-product may be good enough for my chicken nuggets (I kid), but common sense is that doesn't sound too great, either. Hmm. (Learn all about this stuff at dogfoodchat.com and dogfoodanalysis.com, where pretty much every brand you could get at Wal-mart receives the worst score possible. It was so eye opening my eyelids are a scarf now).

That's when Capricorn and I decided we're going to be "those" dog owners. The kind that feed their dogs the good stuff, except we aren't going to be pretentious about it. We just want our dogs to live until they are 113 (in human years, or 729 in dog years).

Armed with a list and a Google-plex amount of knowledge, I went to a small pet store chain to check out a few specific brands. You can't find the really good stuff at big chains like PetSmart, PetCo or the like, evidently, because they are the devil, according to the manufacturers.

It so happened a representative from one of the dog food brands was there giving samples and chatted me up/tried to coerce me. After a good talk about the benefits of found-in-nature food sources and having meat be the primary source of protein in a dog's diet, she told me how one of her dogs eats her other dog's feces. I'm not sure if that's what she meant by found-in-nature food.

So I left that store, having only bought some all-natural, berry-tasting doggie snacks that tastedsmelled edible. I went to a locally-owned pet shop, and found a 28-pound bag of the top stuff on my list, Innova Evo.

Beside being a highly-rated brand, here are some of the top ingredients:

Turkey, chicken, turkey meal, chicken meal, potatoes, herring meal, chicken fat, natural flavors, egg, apples, tomatoes

That's basically better than I eat. WTH. It's got so much protein The Situation might eat it before he does his Gym-Tanning-Laundry.

Downside: It costs about twice as much as Pedigree. But then I remembered that the serving size is about half as much, since there's much less filler, so the cost will eventually even out. And, as another bonus, it's name is Evo, which sounds awesome and makes me think of the name of some Fast & Furious character-to-come.

Now we're down to the final part: Taste-test. You can't just switch your dog from non-organic to organic food in one move. That would be like you eating nothing but pizza and McDonalds, and then becoming a vegan overnight. So we mixed in some of the Pedigree with the Evo, and added a little rice on top.

The result:
Bailey and Leo ate around all the Pedigree like peas on a child's plate. Who knows if all of this will pay off in dogs that are healthier and happier, but I have to think this will work out. That is, unless Bailey and Leo reallllllyyy prefer the old diet of detached chicken heads and feet.

Am I crazy for trying all this out? Have you ever thought about your pet's diet? Is there a reason Bailey and Leo eat better than I do now?

To discuss a brand new feature: I vlog the crap out of this post

For the first time, I have a laptop with a webcam. After extensive testing and Skyping with a Mexican drug lord, I've decided to bust out a new feature on WildARSChase.

I'm gonna do a little vlogging. Now, this isn't going to be all No Ordinary Rollercoaster quality. There's a reason he won Best Vlogger. Actually, I think he won like 57 20-Something Blogger awards. He and LivItLuvIt are the Sean Penn and Meryl Streep of the 20SB awards. I'm the Susan Lucci. Actually, I'm more like her redheaded stepchild who wets the bed.

But, at the least, I'll give vlogging a try. I apologize for the relatively poor lighting, etc- I'll improve on it next time (if you want a next time ... otherwise, this is basically "The Beautiful Life," minus Mischa).

This wouldn't be WildARSChase if I didn't throw in some kind of twist, though. For my first vlog (split into two parts, both pretty short), I made it Pop Up Video style. Children of the 90s just fainted with excitement. I can't get it to make a "pop" sound, but it's the general idea. Hope you enjoy it...

If you want to check out the YouTube links, here's part 1 and part 2. Might be best viewed full-screen.

Part 1:


Part 2:

To discuss a trip to the vet for the chihuahua- no, not that chihuahua

In the past when I've written about trip to the vet, it's been about my chiweenie, Bailey.

There was the time he wouldn't stop licking his paws, as if he was a college co-ed and his paws were tequila.

And there was the time when he had a mysterious back ailment that caused him to hide underneath my bed and shriek like Republicans at the mention of gay marriage.

But this time, the sick puppy is Leo. Leo is Capricorn's chihuahua, about 5 years old. He and Bailey have become best friends and possibly gay lovers, if all the butt sniffing and come hither glances are any indication.

Last week, Leo starting scratching his ear, leading Capricorn to believe he had ear mites. She tried some over the counter medication, which only made the problem worse. So there was no avoiding it. Leo had to go to the vet.

Since I had time this morning, I took him to the appointment. If I look dainty carrying in my 11-pound chiweenie, just think how I look carrying in a 5-pound chihuahua. I might as well start butt sniffing.

The veterinary center had been remodeled since I had last gone (which I surely would pay for in some manner when the bill came). On a giant flat screen TV behind the receptionist, Cesar Milan, even on mute, reminded me I'm not being a good pack leader and should lower my head in shame. You say Dog Whisperer, I say Human Humiliator.

Soon, Leo and I went into a room, where he got the ol' rectal thermometer (unlike Bailey, his eyes didn't pop out like a Troll doll). He got weighed: 4.8 pounds, smaller than most cats. All that yo-yo dieting is really getting to you, Leo.

As a vet about my age and ostensibly much better paid than I checked out Leo's ear, she said he likely had a yeast infection. How embarrassing, Leo. Now they're gonna have to give you Monistat. Oh, not that type of yeast infection? Should I put him in the oven to rise?

As it turns out, he just needs some medicated drops and antibiotics, which I could have told them without the $20 test but hey, what do I know, I got shamed by a reality television dog whisperer.

The vet and her assistant left the room. That gave me time to look at all the literature around the room, reminding me of how many tests/preventive medications I wasn't nice enough to give to my dogs. God help a paranoid pet owner. The sole purpose of all that stuff is to make sure you think your dog will become rabid at any moment and eat your flesh off unless you get him vaccinated. And once you're done with that, you better get heartworm prevention or you'll get an $800 bill for heartworm treatment, plus get shamed again. Curiously, none of the signs mentioned anything about erectile dysfunction, which I'm sure must affect millions of dogs everywhere. Except Bailey. And he's fixed.

I was also curious about the magazine selection. What are they trying to say about Gwen Stefani? And is the idea here no guys ever take their pets to the vet? Shouldn't there be a Playboy? At least we could stare at Bunnies.*

* Hey-yoooo!

After Leo tried fiercely not to get drops in his ear, what with having been ear raped minutes earlier as they cleaned everything out, we were all done.

The bill came to about $150. Having a pet is like having a kid. It's not like you can say, "You know what... I think I'll just let the little guy suffer. I'd rather not have to spend $150. There's a sale at Banana Republic" Then you're a monster, and ripe for an appearance on Maury Povich. (Show title: Shocking Pet Owners Refuse To Pay Vet; Neighbors, Family and baby Jesus appalled)

Leo's ear seems to be doing better. That's good. Because otherwise I was just going to Van Gogh that sucker.

To discuss Friday fun: Dogs in silly costumes makes for fun animal abuse

Capricorn was in the mood yesterday to bust out her box full of doggie outfits (yes, there's a box). I, being ultra considerate of my readers, immediately decided to capture some of these moments for your sadistic viewing pleasure. Please enjoy, and don't call PETA on me.
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This bomber jacket is the only one Bailey seems to like, perhaps because it is PIMP. What's that you just heard? Oh, that's just your dog suddenly in heat.Capricorn thinks dressing up Leo is, quite possibly, the most fun this side of True Blood. No one told Leo, unfortunately, that he'd be dressed up like the gayest little lumberjack.
For the record, that's "Wearing a chihuahua lumberjack hat 1, Leo's dignity 0."

This about sums up Bailey's attitude toward outfits:

It's hard to tell, since dogs don't speak, but Bailey has clearly just plotted how to stab me in the middle of the night without leaving a trace of evidence. Shrewd, very shrewd.

It looks like the witch got crazy drunk at an all-night rave (Witches are total ravers), got a little sloppy with her potion-making, and started throwing up chihuahuas.
... and my favorite photo of the day:

To discuss a look back at one year of Wild ARS Chase, for better or worse or worser

"All the kids are doing it these days.... blogging, that is (oh, and the chronic)."

That's how Wild ARS Chase started one year ago this past Saturday. So much has changed since then, both in my life and on the blog, it's almost like Elizabeth Berkley on Saved by the Bell and on Showgirls - sure, it's the same person, but in name only.

Many of you have already given me congratulations, which is much appreciated. What's most interesting about Aug. 1 2008 versus Aug. 1 2009 might be the change in readership- a lot of newbies, some diehards and a porn spammer or two.

To refresh the memory of my longtime readers (I can say that now-- it's been a year) and those who jumped on board bandwagon style, I thought we'd take a stroll through memory lane. More of a marathon (sorry about the length- it's a year, after all), but memory lane nonetheless. And if you've never commented before, um, can you say hi this time, so I can prove you exist?

Coincidentally, this is post #300.

August

• Had my first TV Play by Play, reviewing The CW's "Girlicious" Excerpt :16 Jenna’s having cramps, she announces during her dancing practice. She doesn’t want anyone to think she’s a quitter, so she toughs it out. By curling up on her bed and quitting.
• I divulge my extraordinary Seven Steps to Holding Hands method, am considered for Nobel Peace Prize.
• Do my first co-blog with Tracie, as we cover the summer Olympics and I profess my love for Alicia Sacramone.
• And I wrap up with my first month in review (I was full of ideas back then. Those were the good days), where I say my artist of the month, Adele, is a mix of Alicia Keys, Jill Scott and Joss Stone, "Like a biracial lesbian test tube baby."
  

September

• My first "America's Next Top Model" play by play, which has become a bit of a signature for W.A.C.
• I go on the worst date of my life. Check that. I tried to go on the worst date of my life.
• I introduce you to my chiweenie (that's my dog, not my crotch)
• And I meet Capricorn, the soon to be love of my life who goes from casual mention to blog regular. Excerpt: "We settled on Madame Capricorn, which makes her sound like a fortune teller or a dominatrix, either of which sounds mysterious and wonderful."
• Oh, and I wrote a blog post on a typewriter.
  

October

• I posed 10 questions about 90s TV shows, one of many references to 90s pop culture that just kind of evolved as an underlying them of W.A.C.
• I went to St. Louis (and stayed at a hotel across from an Obama rally). I also saw Jesus.
• Capricorn and I nearly peed ourselves after watching this.
  
• And we celebrated Fall Fest 2008.

November

• Capricorn met my parents, which reminded me of an ex's crazy father.
• In perhaps my best idea, I started my "What I Learned from Cosmo" feature. If Cosmo would send me the August edition, I'd write another one.
• I referred to one of my favorite bloggers by the wrong name.
• And I had one of my most successful-- visitor-wise-- blog post series, when I hooked up with Ben (sadly, only in writing) for a No Ordinary Rollercoaster-Wild ARS Chase event here, here and here. I've heard it was second only to the Obama election in 2008 hype.
• I give you 100 things to know about me. One thing not included: I have a basketball-shaped pillow I sleep with every night like a teddy bear. True story.
• That was part of my first inaugural Get to Know Me Week.

December

• Wow, November was action-packed, wasn't it? December is like sloppy blogging seconds.
• Capricorn and I said three special words to each other, right before I went on a trip to Atlanta.
• I ripped on that Christmas Shoes song.
• Joshlos and I broke down the best sports movies from our lifetime. Summer Catch, somehow, does not make the list.
• And Kate and I give our resolutions. Suprisingly, I've actually kept up with all of them, except for the part about convincing Natalie Portman and Capricorn to make out.
  

January

• I did my best to offend several of my fellow church-goers by debating who has it worse- girls with their ladybits or guys with their manparts.
• I gave out the inaugural Wild ARS Awards.
• I start doing play by plays of ultra homoerotic "Bromance" episodes.
• And I publish some incriminating childhood photos.

February

• Finger Talks does a hilarious guest post in honor of my birthday.
• I do commentary on the Grammys. Excerpt: "Chris Brown gets announced for his nominated song, "No Air." I now realize that song was Jordin Sparks' plea for help."
• And I roll out a new feature, Love Coach texts, and a second installment of Music I Loved Fridays.

March

• In one week, I find out my work is forcing us to take five unpaid days off, my brother is admitted to the hospital and I find out I have to pay double rent.
• I balance out my magazine reviews my recapping Maxim. Thus begins the first of several Google searches landing on my blog in search of scantily clad women.
• Bailey costs me $300, and I gripe about moving.

April

• Another W.A.C. special: As Seen on TV Week, with PediPaws, Shamwow, Hercules Hooks, and other terrible products.
• Oh, and let's not forget the Snuggie review, which might have been the crowd favorite.
• As if that wasn't enough embarrassment, I responded to a challenge by Haute Pocket by replicating my Fake Andy Shaw of the Month photo.

May

• I explain to Jenners' readers all about the male mind.
• Capricorn rode a tractor, with video evidence.
• I break my computer and visit an amusement park, all in one weekend.

June

• I gave you my 10 Top Embarrassing Songs on my iTunes playlist.
• Then I took the rest of the month off...

July

• ... because I was in a musical, "The Sound of Music."
• Then I gave you all some social media training.
• Recapped the glorious "16 and Pregnant" finale
• And wrote a guest post for Ms. Pocket in honor of her 25th birthday.

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So, that's it. I almost forgot about some of that stuff. You'd think this was almost a legitimate blog, looking backing at all of this. Here's hoping I can keep it up for Year 2... thanks for supporting me-- I consider you the sponsors to my Blogging Anonymous. To thank you, I've got a special surprise planned I hope to have available later this month. No, it's not a puppy.

To discuss barking up a blog post: WildARS is overrun with chihuahuas

Bailey caught a fly midair and ate it.

No, this isn't a post about my dog's apparent knack for extermination-- he's the Venus fly trap of dogs-- but it does serve as a preamble* to one of your favorite types of blog posts.

It's not a Cosmo or Maxim review (those are coming). It's better. It's a dog post. Yes, I notice how you love reading about my chiweenie, Bailey.

Well, like Lindsay Lohan in a hapless remake of the Haley Mills classic "The Parent Trap," I've got double trouble. I've got two chihuahuas running around my apartment.

Now that Capricorn is fully entrenched in my abode (and my commode- she's got 15 bottles of shampoo in the bathroom, give or take), her dog, Leo, has also taken up residence. Unless the landlord of my apartment complex asks. Then, no, he's just visiting and will be gone by tomorrow, k? Thanx.

Leo and Bailey (both fixed boy dogs) have become quite the duo. I thought it might be worth highlighting some of what has transpired so far:

• Leo is the neediest dog you will ever find. He must be held just about every second. Bailey finds this puzzling.
  
• Leo and Bailey might be turning gay for each other. At least, I'm assuming they are because if I sniffed a dude's butt that much AND spooned with him, I sure as hell would have to admit I was flying my rainbow flag.
• Leo has a bladder the size of a peanut... if you ate half the peanut. Capricorn has to get up every night in the wee hours to walk him. Bailey, because he's awesome, doesn't need walked until he wakes up after I'm done getting ready in the morning. That is, except for the recent night when I woke up around 2 a.m. to hear "Ssssssssss." Yep, Bailey was making a non-refundable deposit at the Urine Bank by the bed.
• Leo likes to play first thing in the morning. Bailey, possibly hung over, likes to sleep in. So Leo's new trick is to tunnel under the covers to get Bailey, then nudge him and pull back the covers until Bailey comes out to play. Bailey usually looks pissed.
• For one reason or another, given the option, both dogs like to sit on me. Bailey sits in between my legs-- only a hooker is in between a man's legs more than Bailey, and even then, it's not close-- and Leo likes to curl up on my left arm. Which is all very cute. Until I need to, oh, type, pee, eat, use the remote, or anything useful. How's a man supposed to dial his dealer?
• Leo squats like a girl when he pees. He also likes to sniff Bailey when Bailey pees, except sometime he gets too close and gets peed on... which would be fine if he was into golden showers, but he's not.
• There is a giant cage for both dogs when we're out of the apartment. Bailey has no problem with it. Leo will bark and paw at the door with all the intensity of an Elisabeth Hasselbeck/Rosie O'Donnell split screen. This makes Bailey fear for his life. As a note, Bailey is about 11 pounds and is inexplicably ripped. Leo is about 6 and has a skeleton that feels like it's made out of packing peanuts.
• If it was bad enough having an adult male walk around a chiweenie... well, now I'm walking a chiweenie and a chihuahua who looks like a prancing reindeer when he walks.
  
• Capricorn is convinced Leo is the second coming of Jesus, as he has never sinned.
  
• Capricorn is convinced Bailey is the devil. We call him El Diablo.
• Leo, based on his dominant personality and apparent awesomeness (Capricorn's thoughts) has been dubbed "The Boss." Except, you need to say "Boss" like a rapper, so it's two syllables: "baw-us." Gives it that certain something. Capricorn's favorite joke now is to have The Boss (not to be confused with Bruce Springsteen) facing her, and make his paw pimp slap her while she goes "Who's the boss? I'm the boss!" Tony Danza, eat your heart out.**
  
• Other names we have given the pair since Leo moved in: Billy the Kid (Bailey) and Walker Texas Ranger (Leo), Bailey Mays (Bailey, after Billy Mays died. We had Bailey give product pitches in our house), Angel (Leo) and Bailzabub (Bailey).
  

* Not entirely sure what that word means, but it gives the blog post a certain Gettysburg Addressian feel, doesn't it? Four score and whatnot.
** Tony, that's just a saying. Don't take it literally! Gross, Tony!

To discuss As Seen on TV Week: Hercules Hooks

This continues As Seen on TV Week, full of product reviews, news and other stories of our favorite As Seen on TV products. Any product reviewed is something I actually own. Check here for a PediPaws review and for a ShamWow review. Feel free to comment on your own experience with these products:
Hey. Hey YOU! Yeah, the one without pants on! Have you ever sat around your home and... what's that? You're what? A hobo?
Oh.
Hmm.
Yeah, keep moving then, buddy. And stop staring at me like that... you're being a hobo creeper.

What about YOU! You there, sitting inside your nice home! Have you ever sat in your living room, staring at the wall, and wondering, "If I ever actually do something successful in life and get a plaque for my accomplishment, it would be great if there was an overpriced but effective wall hanging device that would leave only a pin-sized hole in the wall and would be easy to use. And would remind me of a mythical hero."

Then I've got the product for you: Hercules Hooks!

Using this steel-hard rod, just penetrate, turn and...Whoa, whoa! This is a family infomercial. What I mean is, just stab it into the wall, twist the hook and you've got a hanger that can handle just about anything. Just look at what you can hang:


Artwork: In just seconds, you can hang multiple frames. In just minutes following, you can realize you don't like that arrangement and need to change it. In just hours following, you can look at your legs and wonder if one is longer than the other because for the love of Peter Paul and Mary, you can't hang anything straight. In just seconds following, you can straighten all the pictures and stop being so freaking O.C.D.

Awards: Kate Winslet uses Hercules Hooks to secure all of her trophies to the wall. Well, no she doesn't, but she could. Although if Kate did this, she'd do it topless.

Hookers: Hookers Hooked on Hercules Hooks. Alliteration and fun for the whole family! Keep those streetwalkers in a convenient spot by the door, in the garage, in your closet while the missus is home... anything!

Witches: Why waste good rope at the town witch hunt, when you can hang any woman 150 pounds and lighter* on a Hercules Hook while you burn them alive for their supposed black magic, which was actually just them using THE AMAZING OXICLEAN... but I digress.

Pets: Ever get tired of your pet running around all the time? Ever think it would be freaking awesome to hang them on the wall? Ever wonder if the authorities would see this photo, think I actually did this, and take away Bailey from me for animal abuse? Cause I did. And no, I didn't hang Bailey by his harness, technically speaking. But I could, and so could you!

* Fat witches might need two Hercules Hooks. And a really sturdy broom.

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Actual Review: For an apartment dweller, these really do help, as they only leave a small hole, and they won't strip paint like some other hooks. You can't use them on a concrete wall, etc., but for drywall, it works great. Four out of five stars.

To discuss As Seen on TV Week: PediPaws

This kicks off As Seen on TV Week, full of product reviews, news and other stories of our favorite As Seen on TV products. Any product reviewed is something I actually own. No, this will not include Extenze. Feel free to comment on any personal stories you have with these products.

Have you ever wanted to rape a dog?
No?
Well, good, because that would be an awkward moment for both of us.
But if you wanted to find out how to do it, I've got the product for you!

That's right, it's PediPaws. Tired of taking your pet to get their nails done at the store? Worried about cutting the quick (blood vessel in nail) and spurting blood out like some Saw IX audition? Concerned about having your canine fit in with the rest of the hoity-toity bitches (female dogs, that is) on the block with their fancy outfits and groomed fur?

Well, then try this amazing product which doesn't resemble a female sex toy AT ALL! Except for the fact it kind of does and it took us several minutes to stop laughing. It even vibrates. But enough about your sexual frustrations and failed one-night stands. Let's get back to PediPaws!

This amazing product uses rotating sandpaper to file down your pet's nails. No clipping, no cutting. Just speedy grinding, not unlike what you'd see at an 18-and-over dance club.

To alleviate your concerns about putting your pet's nails in what amounts to a miniaturized ax grinder, let me give you some of instructions to help you and your skiddish pet (seriously, these are the instructions, almost verbatim, with a few strike-through comments):

"If your pet is not comfortable receiving a PediPaws pedicure... you may choose one of the following suggested approaches: Lay your pet on his stomach... Begin the undressing and heavy petting PediPaws procedure.
If your pet resists or tries to squirm away from your groin, DO NOT ALLOW IT! The struggling is only temporary No doesn't always mean no when it comes to bestiality... Be assertive. NEVER LET HIM OR HER GO! Or at least until the cops come

So, you're still not convinced? Take a look at these results, which are almost visible to the naked eye and would have been better if Bailey hadn't freaked out. Speaking of naked, STOP SQUIRMING. YOU'LL LIKE THIS!
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Actual review: Not bad. When Bailey did sit still, it worked nicely and I felt more at ease than I do using clippers. His nails get scary, talon long-- I think I saw him swoop in on a squirrel, hawk-style-- so it's a decent product. 3 out of 5 stars for the pedicure, 1 out of 5 stars for the aggressive directions. I even tried it on myself:

To discuss a Weekend Update, midweek/moving version

Can I do a Weekend Update on a Wednesday?
Sure I can!
I've been off since last Friday. Before you give me the "Oh, thanks for rubbing it in my work-soaked face," let me say that one of those off days was an unpaid, furlough day. So stick that in your judgment pipe and smoke it. Actually, don't. Smoking kills.
Here's the rundown of happenings in the past few days, including my move:

• You will never get too old to be happy your parents pay for stuff. It doesn't happen often anymore- which is the way it should be- but there is a certain joy to go to a restaurant and have your dad reach into his wallet and say, "I've got this one." It's good that happened this weekend, too. Otherwise, it would have been an awkward pause, ending with my dad intermittently staring at the bill and at me, then me saying, "So... How about that bill, eh? Think we can make it to the parking lot before they notice?"
• This weekend brought out my inner freak. No, not that. I'm low on syrup and I don't own a cat. The other thing- electronics. I spent an afternoon hooking up all my gadgets, because at some point in life, I thought it'd be a good idea to take an interest in buying multiple electronics that make it increasingly difficult for me to perform the simple task of watching television. The back of my TV stand looks like an audio visual cemetery, with wires strewn haphazardly in their final resting place until my next move. I claim to know how all the wires work, but that's a farce. I also claim to know how to drive a stick, but if I tried it on your car it'd sound like I'm making love to your grandmother with a monkey wrench and a cane.
• Capricorn is an orderly, neat person. So I gave her free reign to put everything in the apartment exactly where she thinks it should go. I hope one day she shows me where she put everything.
  
• The process of moving brings to life the trivial objects in your life that on any other day you could give three sheets to the wind about. I spent multiple minutes talking about Lazy Susans, light bulbs, disinfectant, picture hangars and bed sheets. I imagine this is what hell is like, except you never actually move- you just talk about things you'll need for when you move. And, Britney Spears will shave your head. With a rusty blade. Oh my God, y'all!
• I am already scoping out the neighbors. No, not for hot chicks- I'm already dating the hottest girl anyway. I'm scoping them out so I can more easily categorize them into stereotypes: The Thumper (Neighbor who walks like an elephant and is always heard through the wall), the Screamer (Always arguing with boyfriend/girlfriend), the Inconsiderate Prick (Never picks up after dog, takes up two spaces, hates kittens and Jesus), etc. Introspective moment: What neighbor would you be? Racquel, you wouldn't be that neighbor who has crazy loud sex or has drunken tirades, would you?
• New neighborhood means Bailey has to re-mark everything. After a long walk yesterday, this complex is officially his bitch. I wish people could mark an area the way dogs could. Some new dude comes in to interview for my job, I mark the front door and growl. I also might hump his leg.
• I now have a blog room (though I'm still putting things away). In what others might call a den or office, I have made the second bedroom into a little blog zen place, with a TV, recliner and tray table for easy blogging. Capricorn thinks it's a great idea, although that might be because she can watch oversized family shows like "17 and Counting" on the big TV while I'm huddled away like a blogging J.D. Salinger for a few hours.

To discuss things I hate about moving, plus Where's Bailey?

Minus a few boxes, my move is done.
That should mean I can get back to blogging regularly, and boy, do I have some good stuff for you.

But first, let's play a game called, "Where's Bailey?"Can you find the chiweenie in this photo taken during Moving Weekend 2009?

Yes, Bailey, in a secretive, Anne Frank-esque move minus the murderous Nazis and plus the fur, has taken occupancy of a studio apartment-- the bottom shelf of my bookcase. He has yet to pay rent, however.

In fact, he owes me $300. That's how much it cost for the pet deposit. In the first of what will likely be a series of blog posts about moving, here's my 5 Things I Hate About Moving:

1. Pet policies: 75 percent of renters don't allow pets, and the other 25 percent allow pets, but only after cash-raping you with a deposit and a series of forms to prove your dog doesn't have rabies/won't attack children/won't hump your leg. What's wrong with a little dog-humping? Beggars can't be choosers.
   
2. Address change: You have to notify every single company you deal with of your new address, let alone the Postal Service. It's at this point that you realize how antiquated mail delivery is, and yet how much of a thrill you get when you have actual mail. I notified all the companies, making it much easier for them to send me bills and other sources of tears. I also got new subscriptions to Maxim and to Cosmo. Capricorn: "You got the subscription to Cosmo in your name?" Me: "Yes. It's for business purposes. It's not weird. Um, right?"
3. Packing: It is always at this point that you think, "My God! How did I accumulate all this stuff? I've got an entire moving box full of pens and notebook paper! Where did all these knick-knacks come from? How long has that drifter lived beneath my sink?" Every time I move, I capriciously throw away or donate as much as possible. And yet, I never seem to have fewer things. More than once during a move, I have sworn I'd become a monk and throw away everything except the most essential items. That never works, though, as "essential" on my list includes Tivo, a laptop, a couch, a Shamwow*, etc.
4. Learning the New Area: At least this time, I was only moving across town. But normally, this involves starting from scratch and finding the local grocery store/gas station/dope smuggler, and that can be time-consuming. It's a lot of trial-and-error to find the good ones. You have to figure out which Chinese restaurants have good sweet-and-sour chicken, and which ones have an unusual relationship with the animal shelter.
   
5. Hanging up things: I hate hanging up things on the wall, but I love having things on the wall. So I'll bang in a couple nails, and discover the frame is crooked. Then I re-bang the nails, and after thirty minutes of banging, all I have is a crooked frame and syphilis. Plus, you have to get the little frame hang-y thingies to latch on to the nails. I'd have better luck getting Lindsay Lohan an Oscar for "I Know Who Killed Me." Until God grants my request for X-Ray vision, hanging things on little hooks will always be a headache.**

* I didn't forget about my promise to review Shamwow. In fact, I've got something special cooked up, Made for TV style, as soon as I get the chance to write it.
** God won't grant it because He knows I'd only use it to see through girls' clothing. You got me, Jesus, you got me.

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Bailey's in the bottom right, if you haven't him by now. And, if that's true that you haven't found him by now, please cut up your driver's license. Thanks.

To discuss Weekend Update Part II: Fat cats, small dogs, shaved dignity

PetSmart has a special place in my heart.
It's where Capricorn and I went on our second date (as detailed here). It also marks the place I realized Capricorn loves putting outfits on small dogs, such as Bailey, my chiweenie. Coincidentally, it marks the place I realized Bailey hates wearing outfits.
So whenever Capricorn and I make a return visit, as we did this past weekend (here's Part I of the Weekend Update), it's always memorable.
We brought Bailey with us, as well as Capricorn's chihuahua, Leo. We're slowly getting Bailey and Leo to become best friends, although Capricorn doesn't like it when Leo sniffs Bailey's manhood. She wants them to be friends, not friends with gay benefits. I've caught them spooning before, too.

Two things always happen when I bring Bailey to PetSmart:

• He goes No. 2 within 10 minutes. He didn't fail me this time, either. We think it's because he gets nervous being around other dogs, as it's not like him to open butt fire in a public place like that. At least he doesn't do what daddy does when he gets nervous. Nobody likes a drunk doggie... Just kidding. I don't drink when I get nervous. I do crystal meth.
• Shoppers come up and say how cute he is. This would be fun, except Bailey is protective of me and growls. Leo, however, eats this up. He'll take attention wherever he can get it, like a Real World castmate doing their 6th season of The Gauntlet even though they're 40 and balding.

This time, however, a little boy came up to me while I was holding Bailey.
"Hey, is that the dog from 'Beverly Hills Chihuahua'?" the boy asked.
Bailey looked up at me like, "This kid rides the short bus."
"No, no, not quite, dude. He's a chihuahua, but not the one on the movie," I replied before hatching a plan to make Bailey a famous star.

As Capricorn and I made our way to the back of the store, we saw the captive cats. None of these cats ever look happy to be there. But at least I can tell PetSmart is feeding them well, as evident by this cat to the right. It must weigh over 20 pounds.
If the cat was a child, his parents would tell him God loves him just the way he is and he doesn't have to change but if he could lay off the chocolates a little bit that would be great so mommy and daddy don't have to hide his pudgy tummy on the beach. Since he's a cat, though, I was allowed to point and laugh at the fatty catty. The cat was larger than Leo and Bailey combined.

Capricorn had been worried about Leo escaping through an open doorway during my moving day, coming up at the end of the month. She wanted him around, but didn't want to carry him. Her idea: Get a puppy pouch.
This idea lasted about 20 seconds after she put on one of these bags and declared that she looked pregnant.
I had a brief thought that I should tell her to put her shirt over Leo, take a photo, send it to my mom and say, "Surprise, Grandma!"
That also lasted about 20 seconds, as I love my mother and would feel remorse if I gave her a heart attack.

If you ever want to watch something pathetic, watch any episode of Rock of Love Bus observe fluffy dogs getting hair cuts.
I just can't think the dogs want to look like they are Sheer Genius rejects. Bailey never needs hair cuts, so I'm fortunate there.
But if he did, I don't think I'd ask for the "You know what? Shave off everything except the tail and the face. I want his body to look like someone squished the middle of a Twinkie."
Is there a reality show about dog groomers? There must be, right? Please let me know, so I can boycott it.
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All right, I need to get back to packing. Moving is not fun. I hear rich people just call someone to pack up there stuff and move it for them. Yet another reason to despise the wealthy... Unless I become wealthy. I am not above retracting statements.