Dog(s are the best) People

"yeah the border collie club (pause) you know, dog people"

i heard the above snippet of a conversation at work today and immediately thought of the guy in the pictures below.

his name was Fedor Jeftichew (Russian: Фёдор Евтищев) and he was made to perform in "carnivals" in the late 1800's under the name Jo-Jo The Dog Faced Boy (and later Jo-Jo The Dog Faced Man). it's a shame that he didn't survive until the year 2011 when people such as himself have apparently managed to organise clubs, where one presumes they lobby against being made to perform for "carnivals".

despite his untimely death in 1904 you can follow Fedor at twitter where i'm sure he'd be happy to respond to any queries you may have on dog people, Don Bradman or the escalating drug cartel crisis in Mexico.

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 4

...the splat of the fish his sister had hurled at their writhing figures in shear desperation and disgust upon stumbling upon their shenanigans. The Geek's sister, Gladys, wound up again and was stopped by a sturdy hand grabbing her wrist. Agnes’ tight grip pulled her down and Gladys grunted as the fish was crammed into her mouth by a giggling Geek and she was shoved out the door. She stood there, wide eyed and astonished before she burst into tears and ran like a hobbled baby calf to her pole room where the thought of tiring herself out with hours of awkward rehearsal somehow cheered her up. Meanwhile, amongst the scattered Commodore 64's, pooling blood and cold coffee, our protagonist the Geek was...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 3

...passed out into a world as black and empty as a laptop that hadn't been recharged in time. Agnes, in a daze, mopped the blood from her face with her poly-blend shirt with one hand and, seeing the opportunity, took advantage of the situation and stepped inside the Geek’s room. She had never seen the inside before; just the closed door that seemed to emit an electronic hum, like it was alive and waiting. She always felt she was being watched by the room. It gave her the creeps. But it had always intrigued her. What did he do in there? She gave a sideways glance at the Geek, who lay there motionless; his skinny chest rising and falling gently and his pallid skin glowing eerily in the blinking lights and the erratic flashes of lightning, walked straight towards the empty desk and smiled to herself a wicked twisted smile. She had gotten rid of the Geek's macbook pro and her one competitor for his attention and love. Now he was all hers and all she needed to do was wake him up. She knelt beside him, took a deep breath and, trembling with excitement and anticipation, she kissed him on the lips. Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. She slapped him lightly on one cheek, then the other and then harder and then harder again. Nothing! Sighing, she sat back on her heels, her ample flesh spilling around her like an overstuffed bean bag, and thought about how on earth she could revive him. Like an apple falling on Newton's head the idea came to her in a moment of pure inspiration and she raced back into the Geek's room and picked up two cups of the tepid coffee the Geek had left. She emptied the contents across his face and for good measure dropped the cups onto his head, much like the before mentioned apple on Newton's scone. The Geek awoke with a start and to his embarrassment started sobbing. He sobbed with the deep chest-wracking heaves of a 5 year old; snot bubbling from his nose like a snail who has been sprinkled with salt, and bottom lip sucking in against his teeth and a single strand of drool swinging slowly down in a silvery line, coming to nestle in a damp pool on his shirt. Suddenly, he sat up, but was knocked straight back down with the ease of pushing over a drunk baby giraffe as Agnes leapt upon his frail frame. The Geek, too stunned to react, acquiesced to Agnes' tongue as it pushed its way deep into his mouth past the silent metal sentries glued to his teeth. The blood from Agnes' wound mixed with the coffee still dripping from the Geeks face as his dreams were all realised at once. This was it! The taste of salt, blood, tears, snot and stale coffee filled his mouth and nose and the soft flesh on top of him, his hands flailing like dying fish beside him. His ears were so full of the sound of his quickly beating heart that he almost didn’t hear...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 2

...custard apples. Oh! That exotic fruit with the creamy white flesh hidden behind the bulbous green lumps – who would think that something so misshapen and ugly could be containing something so lusciously sweet. He absently wiped the drool from his lip as he thought of ravishing Agnes as they supped Kool Aid and discovered each other's internal circuitry, while listening to the blissful sounds of a 1987 dot matrix printer, as it ejects a continuous sheet of love poems that have been translated into binary code – their language of love. Pages of inky black 1s and 0s marching out in orderly lines across the snowy paper, it spills across their bodies, the ink smudging against their skin. And as the printer nears its completion their two warped forms buckled, shuddered, withdrew, drew and creaked like a disused and forgotten fixie bike that had been left to rust in decades of rotten winters and howling winds, then rediscovered and used again. Alas, the geek's reverie was interrupted as a voice from the hallway like a siren’s song drew him from his room to peek eagerly around the corner. Agnes. Oh God! She stood there, her silhouette glowing in the dim hallway light. He pressed his hand to his mouth and cut the insides of his gums like a steak knife cutting through a shoe on an informercial. Curses! Will I ever get used to these braces he wondered. Agnes mumbled out the words "Hello? Hello is that..." before her shrill, tremulous voice was cut short by a honking cough and a sharp “schgghh!" as she cleared the phlegm from her throat. The Geek quivered; the sound sending lusty, electric shocks flickering down his spine. He rushed around the corner whipping his crusty used hanky from his vest pocket in the process in order to offer it to the girl of his dreams. Only he hadn't counted on the look of surprise and distaste that flashed across her face which quickly turned to amusement. He looked down and saw his embarrassment pushing against his pants. He flushed a heated red and, uttering a squeak, he quickly turned on his heels to flee. Only in his lustful haze he'd forgotten his collection of Commodore 64 computers he kept in the hallway, which sent him sprawling to the floor in a jumbled heap like Ned Kelly's recently discovered skeleton, except with the head still there and more skin and meat, though not much more meat. Agnes stood looking over him and ripped off her poly-blend shirt. She stood there in all of her glorious nakedness and gazed at him like a hungry lion and said "lie back and think of England" in a husky voice she had heard once on an episode of a Country Practice and had been practicing ever since. She pounced upon the Geek, but alas was too slow as he had rolled over onto his side and was scrambling to his feet as she leaped, and she came crashing heavily down upon the hard, plastic computers, hitting her head on a hard white corner. He froze and stared aghast at the red blood as it oozed from the wound across her glorious custard apple shaped skull. She groaned again, less like the husky, hungry lion and more like the vulnerable proboscis monkey that she resembled. The colour had left her face and the blood stood out vividly against her pale skin. A strange animalistic shriek began to sound from the back of his throat and his vision began to blur. He hated blood. Oh god how he hated it! As the sound left his ears and the world closed in on him he toppled forward and...