BPAL: Snake Oil or Snake In The Grass?

One of the reasons I decided to do a blog dedicated to bitching instead of my other love, indie makeup, is that there are tons who do this so much better.  I suck at descriptions, and I'm too damned lazy to take pictures.
One subject I would avoid would be scented stuff. Scents, to me are a personal thing. It's all a matter of body chemistry. What smells great on someone stinks on another. I've got the kind of chemistry that very few scents work with, so I'm sure a review of "smells like shit on me, but you should try it!" wouldn't be appreciated by a seller. But I read reviews, and sometimes will try stuff based on that.
Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, or BPAL, is a perfume company that has a huge cult like following. It's impossible for anyone who reads blogs about indie products not to have come across some BPAL reviews. So I've tried several of their stock and limited edition fragrances. And no matter what fragrance I try, they all smell the same on me. Like the morning after a night of drunken debauchery. Where you jump out of bed, holding your head, throw open the window, wake up the lump next to you and tell them to get the hell out and swear off alcohol forever. Anything to make it go away.
So I've left BPAL to those who love it. Until now.
Someone who I've been a customer of, who has a small indie bath and body shop, who I LIKE (and that list is small) sells a product that she calls Snake Oil. She's not the only person in the world that sells a product that they call snake oil, but for some reason BPAL has decided to give her a ration of shit about it. Apparently, BPAL sells something they call Snake Oil, which is not the same product as the other, for more than twice the price. And they're claiming that she, who has sold her product longer, is infringing on a name that BPAL has trademarked.
WTF?! The term "snake oil" has been around for hundreds of years, long before all of us were a twinkle in our daddy's eye. We use the term "snake oil" to describe anything from that used in the Craft to anything sold by infomercial. What moron in a trademark office would allow anyone exclusive use of an everyday term?!
And why would anyone whose company has several times more volume in sales want to bother a small indie perfume maker during the busiest time of the year? Is business so slow at BPAL that they have enough spare time to act like shitweasels?! Here's a few suggestions for being more productive with their time at BPAL:

Do something about that hot mess gawdawful website. Hire someone with opposable thumbs that can create something customers can navigate.

Hire more people to spend more time filling orders. You may actually have more business if customers can get their products in the same lifetime that they ordered it.

Put more effort into your quality/batch control. It sucks to reorder something because we loved in in an imp only to find out the full size is nothing like it.

For gawdsakes, blend. Even I, who can't describe perfume, can smell when it's not blended properly.
Quit calling your stuff unique when anyone who knows perfumes knows you use stock scents.

If you're going to harass one person about using a common phrase you now think you own, then do the same with everybody else. It's a long list, get busy.

Congratulate yourself. You've made the Cranky CatWrangler's AssClown List. Not distinguished enough to be AssClown Of The Year, but you're definitely a runner up.

PAYPAL: Assclown Of The Year

 ***Update 12/7/11: Due to this thing going viral the way it did, not only did Paypal  fix the mess, they are donating $100 to each of the 200 families that Regretsy is helping. You can read the update here.
This doesn't make me love Paypal any more, but it does show that with enough people coming together to right a wrong, we CAN change things for the better. Thanks to all of you who took the time to speak out.



Since I can't say it any better, I'll post the links here and here.

I'm all about helping animals, but I've always felt that no child should go without a present under the Christmas tree. Our family buys toys all year round and stashes them to give to the various charities who make a difference to the kids at Christmas. It's as much of a tradition in our house as decorating the tree. The awesome folks at Regretsy have taken it to a ginormous new level, working their butts off to raise money for needy kids, and all you have to do is click to help.

Until Paypal decided to play Scrooge. They insisted that the folks at Regretsy refund all the donations. Since they had already purchased gifts with the money, they had to dig into their own pockets for the refunds. And Paypal kept the transaction fees. According to Paypal, the spirit of giving is okay as long as it all goes to Paypal fees.

So, according to Paypal, I can put a Donate button on my site to buy myself some Clitter but I can't help needy kids? WTF is up with that?
If you're as outraged as I am over this mess, here's what I suggest:

Leave a message on Paypal's Facebook wall

Go back here, scroll to the bottom of the page and tell the biggies at Paypal what you think.

Go here and sign.

If you're a buyer, use something other than Paypal to make purchases. If you're a seller, use an alternative to Paypal for payment. There's other options, use them.

SCROOGE YOU, PAYPAL!!!!!!

How Much is That Puppy in The Parking Lot?

The year has passed quickly, and we're back at the season of giving. And overindulging, overspending and impulsive purchases that we wouldn't normally make any given time a year. We think we're done, and trudge tiredly to our car, when we spy a crowd in the parking lot; yet again, someone is selling puppies.
Once upon a time, we'd see boxes of mixed breed puppies and kittens in boxes in front of the grocery store that were being given away for free. A bad economy and the trend toward designer dogs has those who have intact dogs with the ability to breed looking for a way to earn some cash: sell them as the next trendy thing in a parking lot.
A reputable breeder would never take a young animal into a public place to sell it. With all the viruses that young unvaccinated pets can potentially be exposed to, they know they will be carrying that back to their own pets at home. Everyone who stops to ooh and ahh, and PETS the animal will be exposing it to everything that human has come in contact with.
And then there's the stress. No matter how good the home, being moved from one environment to another is stressful. Which is why we see so many new owners with sick puppies and kittens. Stress weakens the immune system in animals as well as people. Reputable breeders are happy to hold puppies and kittens until after the holidays.
If you must have a warm fuzzy of your own during the holidays, remember that during the hustle and bustle you're already in that you'll have to schedule at least one vet visit during this time. A well pet check and vaccinations are not something that should be put off, whether it's a pedigreed purebred or an adorable mutt.
Make sure when you're equipping your home for the new addition that you also make a safe, quiet place for the pet to go when it needs to. A crate for the puppy or a bed for the kitten in a quiet room so that they can escape all the noise is essential. Holiday time is stressful and overwhelming for pets, too. Keep them away from holiday decorations. Pets love to drink from the Christmas tree bowl, eat pine needles and ribbons from packages. Any of these can result in a serious emergency.

If you just can't resist that parking lot puppy, get in your car and go immediately to the local animal shelter. Shelters that euthanize unwanted pets will be doing more euthanizing this month than most others. They will have only a small crew during the holidays and need to keep the population down. There's plenty of choices, you're sure to find something hard to resist. And your adoption fee includes a vet exam, vaccinations, and spaying/neutering, usually for less than the price of that parking lot pup.

I Whispered And My Horse Won't Stop Laughing...

..Is the name of an essay I intend to write someday. It's the chronicle of going to a clinic of a big name Guru, spending hard earned money on overpriced (but necessary to make it work) gadgets, then learning that I Shouldn't Have Tried This At Home.
I think every frustrated horse owner has at some point fallen under the spell of a Big Name Trainer (or BNT) at some point. They make it look so easy. Check out the crowds at Equine Affaire. Spend a couple of grand on some crap and a DVD or two and you're all set. I've seen more than a few people hang up their shingle and call themselves horse whisperers.
I actually considered applying to have Princess Pout be a demo horse. But he didn't meet the age and training requirements.
WTF is up with that? Isn't that the point of these demos?
I don't have the kind of money to clinic with my horse. I don't even have the extra to send one out and have him magically fixed. What I can afford is a mobile trainer who helps me fix it. The time and sweat I put into it is my own.
My first horse as a kid was a magical bombproof do anything kind of horse. Although he dumped me a few times, he was otherwise a perfect babysitter. Since then, I've ended up with the sad and the dysfunctional, the ones at the end of the line, destined for either my place or the meat truck. I found too many trainers who weren't interested-there was no way me or my horse could easily sparkle in the show ring.

Which was when I learned that finding a trainer for a problem horse separates the women from the girls.

I've been fortunate in my life that the right person to help me with my horses has popped up at just the right time. Their styles and techniques have all been different, but when they were done with me, I was a better rider, which made my horse a better horse.

For all the glitz and glamor in the show ring, there are thousands more who just want to get on and ride, to be the best rider they can be and have a good time with their horse.  Beyond the loud music and smoke and mirrors are the local trainers. The ones who teach us to develop a good seat and light hands. The ones who always have hay in their hair and are covered in a layer of arena dirt. They may never teach a horse to capriole, but they go the extra mile to make sure that the horses they train stand tied quietly, pick up all four feet when asked, and are safe for beginners. They shine with pride at our accomplishments and comfort us when we're frustrated. They push us to go forward and don't let us quit. No matter how much time has passed, every time we swing a leg over and settle into that saddle, we take them with us.

These are the true unsung heroes of the horse world. They don't do it for the spotlight, they do it for the love of the sport, to pass along the passion to others who love horses as much as they do. They knew their chosen career path would be hard, but the passion gave them the drive to sacrifice the expensive trappings of possessions to spend time with horses, and all that go with it.

Thanksgiving is the time to count our blessings. I'm going to make sure I count all of the wonderful horse people I've had in my life.


Happy Thanksgiving!!

A Rave Review

A few years ago, my riding buddy helped me to buy a horse at auction. I was looking for a calm, relaxed trail horse that I could do some team penning with. Princess Pout fit the bill nicely, my buddy did the bidding and we brought him home. Mutual adoration quickly began. I fit him with a western saddle, hit the trails and my buddy made plans to do some team penning. Sadly it was not to be. My buddy's cancer metasticized to his liver shortly after his 80th birthday a year later,  and PP and I were on our own.
When I found myself flat on the ground staring at the sky during what was supposed to be a relaxing ride, I realized that Princess Pout had some holes in his training. I made the decision to restart him from the ground up so we could be a team, and my broken ribs could heal. I didn't mind the ground work, besides I had my schoolmaster to ride while PP was learning what was missing.
Except things went from bad to worse. He became increasingly tense and spooky. We'd get something accomplished, then he'd go back to his bad behavior and we'd start all over. He was afraid of the wash rack, of the sound of the velcro on his fly mask. He never calmed down with work, he always worked up.
I had him checked out medically from nose to tail, had the chiropractor out, everything I could think of. My beloved schoolmaster had to be put down and my husband aquired a young unbroke horse, the ShitWeasel. I found myself with the task of dealing with two horses that frustrated me.
Then I got lucky, a former trainer was back in town and doing mobile lessons. She made her name with unruly horses that nobody else would touch, this project was up her alley. We set right to work, with weekly lessons with each and me taking the horses out individually. We soon got the ShitWeasel manageable, but PP was another story. It was the double edged coin of I wasn't doing anything wrong, but she wasn't having much luck either.
A few months later the trainer got a position at a barn that was too far for me to travel to for lessons. PP developed a crack in his hoof that traveled up to the coronet band, so he was going to be out of work for awhile, and we were looking at a year before the crack was fully grown out. The trainer encouraged me to sell him. She said I've put so much into him and have had to keep starting over. That there are plenty of nice cuddly huggy horses that would fit what I need. It was sound advice, since even she wouldn't get on his back.
Except- I don't sell horses.
Except- this horse was everything a girl could ask for: a gay guy who adores me. He is a heart horse. Maybe I could just be satisfied with having him be a yard ornament. Except- I'm not happy unless I'm riding. I struggled daily with the thought, and even called another former trainer in tears. After all, I take in the unloved and unwanted, the dysfunctional and the issue laden. And I've turned them into ideal equine partners. Why was this one so hard?
I decided that I was going to wait a year for the crack to grow out before I made a decision. There was no way I'd sell him with that and run the risk of a career ending injury in the wrong hands. Meanwhile, I would work on him and me, and try not to cry so much.
I was tootling on my favorite horse message board and I found a long thread touting this product. I read up on the symptoms of magnesium deficiency and since it was within my budget, decided to try it.
No difference. I didn't reorder when I finished the bag. A few weeks later, after a workout that ended in frustration and tears, I emailed the owner and asked her opinion. She quickly wrote back and suggested upping his dose for a week then letting her know how it went. It wasn't successful and I told her so. She encouraged me to keep trying and give it some time. So I got another bag and continued to add it to his feed.
A few weeks ago I took him out again and it was if a switch had been flipped. He was the calm quiet horse I thought I bought-and knew I had, somewhere. He seemed happy, and nothing bothered him. He was so relaxed I wondered if he was asleep. I saddled him up, put him on the longe line and walked him down to the local show. He used to be so herdbound that other horses would rev him up, tail flagging and squealing, so much like a mare in heat I'd even check under his tail. (For those who wonder why I use a longe line, it's because it's long enough that if a horse gets unruly, I can get out of the way and still have a good hold.) I wasn't about to ruin someone's show experience with a misbehaving horse, so we approached in increments. We stopped across the street and I let him look. He answered a few whinnys, then cocked his back leg and licked his lips. By the time we got on the show grounds, he was as blase about it as if he did it every day, even happily following me under tents. He stepped on a couple of plastic bottles, usually the source of a major bitch fit, and that didn't phase him. I took him home, saddled him up and rode him on the best ride we've had in years. I'm thrilled beyond words.
For those of you who have horses whose behavior is making you ready to give up, check out the symptoms of magnesium deficiency in the link above and consider giving Mag Restore a try. Of course, I always encourage people whose horses develop sudden behavior problems to have a vet check the horse out for possible medical reasons first.
I'd like to thank the folks at Performance Equine for giving me my horse back.

Happy Pinktober!

October is my favorite time of year. I love Halloween, so much in fact that some of our decorations have a place in my home year round.
October is also breast cancer awareness month. Pink ribbon merchandise abounds in just about every public place. I was in Sam's Club last weekend and there were pink ribbons on everything from toilet paper to potato chips. It's nice to see what started out as a simple idea blossom into national awareness over the years. Even my horses have pink ribbon flymasks. Part of the purchase price went to a worthy cause, and they can help support it, even if they are geldings.
I came across something that, while not animal related, is so darned cool that I have to mention it here. Team Pinkeye Project is a group of indie makeup and other sellers along with beauty bloggers that are raising money for worthy causes, the one in October, of course, is for breast cancer awareness. You can read about them on FaceBook here and the blog is here.
I like to support indie companies and worthy causes, so I'm really pleased about this. These are an awesome group of people who have devoted their time and efforts for a worthy cause. Check them out.

High Maintenance AssClown Of The Year

When I worked for the Boss Man, we had our share of high maintenance clients. If they're frequent clients, I'd find what it took to keep them happy, and do it. If they were of the more-trouble-than-they're-worth types, I'd do what it took to blow them off. They never did get the hint and leave, dammit.
2 of the doctors that I worked with most at Epic Fail made Hell seem like a day in paradise. There was Dr. Jekyll, the client ass-kisser who was Mr. Hyde with the receptionists-the one who needs and exorcism. Then there was Dr. Menstrual, a female vet who was rarely booked mostly because she seemed to be always on the bleed. Forget slamming an occasional Midol-she needs a daily IV drip of the stuff.
So I had been working there for several days and it was decided that maybe I could be trusted to Answer The Phone (ooh, greatness is mine). So the first call I get is this:
"This is Mrs. Pita, and I sent my husband in with Fido for his vaccines this morning. I want to speak to Dr. Menstrual now!"
"I'm sorry, Dr. Menstrual is in with a client, but I can give her the message and she can call you back."
"You tell her to call me right back! She told my husband that Fido is overweight! Fido is very muscular, he is very fit, he exercises at least 2 hours a day. He is NOT fat!!!"
"I'll give her the message and she'll call you at her earliest convenience."
"You'd better make sure that bitch calls me! I don't want her to ever touch Fido again! I want a second opinion from Dr. Jekyll, he knows what he is doing."

There was more said, but by then I stopped paying attention, plus the form I had to fill out for messages was full. I see Dr. Menstrual in the hall and hand her the note. Apparently, she told the husband that the dog looked a little overweight to her. And the dog was vicious to boot.
I found out that that was the fourth time that day she had called. The fifth time she called, one of the others gave her an appointment with Dr. Jekyll. Which is good since I probably would have said something like "What time would you like to bring Lard Ass in?"
She wouldn't have lasted a minute with Boss Man.