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#charleston chew
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So the tire-eating potholes in my neighborhood finally killed both my rear tires and I had to get that dealt with, but while they were getting replaced, I put the dogs in puppy daycare and upon picking them up early, the attendant literally sprinted to the front desk, grabbed me by the shoulders and breathlessly exclaimed "YOUNEEDTOCOMESEEWHATYOURDOGSAREDOING"
While she escorted me back to the play yards, she explained that every time they have more than three Corgi, they have to put all the Corgs in a separate play yard because they turn into a little gang and bully the Very Large dogs by playing Cow Herding Simulator 5000 with them, and especially if Herschel is there, because corgis are bossy-pants dogs, and Herschel has the bossiest pants of them all and acts as leader.
Despite being a little Don Corgleone to the short bitch mafia, Hershcel is also a Huge Baby and will apparently cry and cry and try to climb the fence and cry and eat people's shoelaces and cry if he is separated from Charlie during playtime, so this means any time that "Corgi Party" is happening, Charlie also has to go to Corgi party, despite being full-height, running cat software and a senior citizen. he copes with being Gulliver amongst the Liliputians by climbing onto the roof of the playskool castle they have for a climbing structure in the yard, kicking the ladder down behind him, and stretching out to nap in the sun while the corgi frolic and gambol around him.
Corgi are dogs that make up and play games with secret rules, like kindergartners. "Everyone bark in sync" is a popular game, as is "follow the leader" and it's companion game "March in a circle around a tall structure like ants caught in a death loop".
So what I was greeted with, when the attendant and I snuck out to the play yard, was the sight of Charlie, sound asleep and flat on his back with his paws crossed over his chest because sighthounds sleep in the stupidest fucking positions, on top of a faux-medieval castle with gargoyles on the corners, surrounded by approximately seven Corgi, all trotting in a circle around him, barking in sync.
"They look like they're preforming some kind of ritual!" giggled the attendant as attempted to get my phone to focus.
"Yeah, they're gonna summon Corgtulhu." I said.
Unfortunately, this made the attendant literally fall on her ass laughing, and distracted Herschel and his compatriots, so they didn't get to complete the summons, and I didn't get the pic.
The attendant kept laughing because apparently she's new to puns, and had mostly gotten it under control by the time we got everyone's leashes on and back out to the front.
The manager was watching the front desk, bemused. Did you get to see them doing the ritual?"
"YEAH!" shrieks the attendant, still excitable with merriment. "THEY'RE- THEY WERE-" The attendant ends up giggling on the floor.
"You okay there Katie?" asked the manager with minimal concern.
"We think they were trying to summon Corgthulhu." I eplain, and Katie screams from the floor. "Wasn't gonna work though, you need a virgin sacrifice and Charlie had an STD when we got him."
It was the manager's turn to shriek. and for Charlie and Herschel to start barking in solidarity.
"That's right Charlie! Your sluttiness saved the world!" I told him, as he jumped up and kicked me in the face.
Anyway, that's why Charlie's nickname at daycare is now "Superman(whore)"
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If you found this story amusing, please consider donating to my Ko-fi or pre-ordering the Family Lore book on my Patreon so I can buy the good dogs more treats.
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holy-shit-comics · 7 months
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fandom-artist99 · 10 months
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I’ve found the Holy Grail
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schoolchaos · 1 year
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I love the week of/after Halloween because everyone always brings their trick or treat candy and you can get even more free candy from nice people while giving away unwanted candies!
I remember trading candies being like "I'll give u my m&ms for gummy bears!" "Charleston Chew for ur reeses!" "Anyone want to take this tootsie rolllll??? I don't want them!"
Whenever fav candies got brought up, i was like
"U GOT SOUR SKITTLES????"
Like, I knew what i wanted and there was always one kid who had bad taste and didnt like skittles or something, or a friend with a peanut allergy who gives me their resees without trading.
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themutantages · 7 months
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I wonder if it's too late to send in my Charleston Chew Bar for an exclusive Wolverine comic.
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bitter1stuff · 1 year
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This may have only played on the eastern seaboard.
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bluepoodle7 · 1 year
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#CharlestonChew #MiniCharlestonChewVanillaCandies #CandyReview
I tried the Mini Charleston Chew Vanilla Candies and these were pretty good.
This candy was crunchy on the outside while having a light chocolate taste and the inside had a light vanilla chew nougat of taffy like texture to it. This does stick to my teeth a little but it's not like eating a caramel sticking to my teeth bad. These were sweet but not overly sweet to me. And reminds me of eating a drumstick ice cream minus the coldness and peanuts for texture.
I wanted to know if these are still good. These were still good but got either crunched or melted. And this is my first time eating these and I would love to try the other flavors if I can find them.
Got at a BP gas station.
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yuviur · 6 months
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Shot by Carol, on one fateful Saturday morning
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gallusrostromegalus · 2 years
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Herschel Has Discovered Tool Use. Again.
In january of 2021, deep in the throes of pandemic psychosis, we acquired a Corgi Puppy.
I would like to go on the record that we did not get a Corgi because they're cute. We got a Corgi because they're criminally brilliant and enthusiastic working dogs that were bred to bully cattle, which is the exact temperment a dog living in a house with three ADHD adults should have. Herschel does commit a lot of crime, but he also does his appinted service-dog job of "make everyone wake up, eat meals and go to bed at a reasonable and consistent time" extremely well, as well as his bonus jobs of "Keep the squirrels the hell out of the garden" and "Yell every time the cat does something". I didn't actually ask him to do that last job but it has helped in the "teach the cat to stay the hell off the stove" area.
But even with having a whole pack of humans another dog, and a cat to manage, this pales in comparison to his genetic capacity to manage several hundred sheep or cattle across the fields of Wales, and thus, Herschel has decided on further intellectual pursuits to occupy himself, namely, speedrunning the early phases of human tool use and terraforming.
I realized he has the brains of an entire hunter-gatherer tribe shortly after he got fixed, and within 24 hours and still dpey from anesthesia, he'd figured out that his plastic cone could be used to monopolize the water bowl and his favorite chew toys, and within a week, had learned how to carry three toys at once while leaving his mouth open by tucking the toys behind his enormous ears and under his chin. He also figured out that he could wiggle the cone to rest against his shoulders, and started using it as a shovel by literally running the bottom edge into the ground. But that wasn't making holes effeicently enough, apparently, and I ended up watching him figure out how to rotate the cone around so the two pieces of overlapping plastic were under his chin, then use his chin and the stairs to the deck to pinch both ends into a much more efficient V-Shape that let him gouge huge strips of dirt up in seconds. The anthropologists and animal behaviorists in the audience may recognize this as Tool Creation, a behavior normally only seen in higher primates, crows, and some parrots. Once a hole of suitable length, depth and temperature had been achieved, he very carefully rolled the cone around so the digging side was over his head and the smooth side under his chin, and splooted into his hole to cool his little tummy and stitches off. It was at that point that I realized that I was going to have to teach him how to garden, or he was going to teach himself.
He no longer has the cone (He was beginning to experiment with it as a battering ram), but his morning ritual is now "Wake everyone up at 8AM by screaming, locate everyone in house and jam my nose up theirs to make sure they're alive, go outside and scream at the squirrels. Now that Yard is Secure, go get Fun Parent who has hopefully taken their meds by now, and supervise them while they rifle through the plants (this is apparently KEY to their mental health), eating any pest animals Fun Parent points out, chase squirrel AGAIN, go inside and get Breakfast cookie." and BY GOD if we deviate from it there will be much screaming and destruction. If I am not home, it has been reported that he walks round the garden beds and sniffs the plants in the order I usually check them in before he will agree to come in. He doesn't quite know what the deal with the melons is, just that they need to be checked.
But we're out of the labor-intensive parts of gardening and now into Harvesting Season, and this is a bit boring except when I give him snap peas right off the vine, and he has decided to work on the complex physics problem that is Doorknobs.
And last week, he had a breakthrough.
Sometime in 2020, my mom sort-of taught her horrible crime herding dog Arwen how to open the back door so she could let herself out as she pleased during the day and stop interrupting Mom's Zoom calls. Arwen is a Kelpie, which means she's about 60lbs with full-length legs and horrible monkey paws that are one joint away from being hands, so when Arwen wants to open the back door, she sits up, leans on the door for purchase/to push it, and uses her terrible crime hands to *push* on the knob until it turns. She can pull the knob open by pawing and catching it on her toes, but she's 11-13 years old now and has mild arthritis, so she prefers to catch it on her central pad instead. She taught Charlie, the other equally brilliant but less criminally inclined dog, to do this but he doesn't like to go outside alone, so he rarely does this.
Herschel, ever the observant student, immediately tried copying them, but even though he is actually tall enough to reach the knob, his toes are just too stubby to get a decent grip on the knob, pushing or pulling, and the first few times, gave up and sat down to scream until one of the fullsize dogs or humans came to open the door for him.
Last week, we were up at my parent's again, and I watched him hunt around the living room until he found his slightly-sticky orange rubber ball (It's clean, it's just a kind of rubber that's always a bit tacky), carry it across the house, stand up on his hind legs at the back door, put the rubber ball on top of the gap between the knob and the wall, and then push down on the ball, which caught the doorknob and turned it for him, thus opening the door. He let himself out, had a merry time yelling at the squirrels, came back in, stopped a few feet inside the door, went back out, grabbed his ball, and brought it back into his kennel, a place he can leave toys if he doesn't want the other dogs playing with them.
This means he somehow worked out how doorknobs work, how fucking levers work, and that his orange rubber ball specifically was the one that would work (none of his other toys are the correct size/texture), that he'd need that ball specifically to open the door again, and yesterday he did the same trick with the bedroom door, so he knows that the rubber ball/skeleton key can be used on all doorknobs, not just that one.
I wonder if I can teach him to sweep.
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If you want to fund Herschel's research into Tool Use and/or get me therapy for the ensuing chaos, please feel free to donate to my Ko-Fi, or get further Dog Content by subscribing to my Patreon.
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unluckyprime · 1 year
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ITS DONE‼️ speedran this animatic over the course of . thhrreeee days 😬
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holy-shit-comics · 7 months
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bitemarx · 5 months
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animatic teaser to motivate myself to finish it
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fiftysixplauges · 8 months
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The way Daryl and Ron were so excited to see each other>>>>>>
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savvage-arts · 10 months
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I decorated a little shadowbox to put my signed print and all of the goodies dndads peeps gave to me at rtx🥺💕💕💕💕
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nick-close · 1 year
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I will say I had a dndads dream last night where the dads anchors were represented by rooms rather than objects which was very cool.
Glenn’s was basically a big toy room- signifying holding onto the past and an inability to grow up.. and he went on a magic carpet with ‘Morgan’ (who wasn’t real)- and while all the other dads got attacked by shit in the room, the fact he clung to his past meant he was allowed to just vibe there. But the dads got to the door and needed Glenn and insisted he had to come- and eventually Glenn caused so much shit he followed them, handing them each a candy he grabbed along the way.
That lead them into Ron’s room. Ron’s room was a small music room- pretty much just four beige walls, some chairs, carpet, and two whiteboards that had like. What dream dm Anthony described as ‘sheet music drawn by someone who can’t read sheet music’. There was soft piano in the background. Presumably in this world Ron played music as a kid? There was pretty much nothing else in the room. It was an empty place where his only choice is to stare at the impossible notes he can’t play. I think Willy’s voice came up saying something, but I can’t remember what.
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Got my taxes done.
Avoid the Pain Monster another year.
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