October 17 | 4 Comments
I’m an artist.
I dabble in an impressionist style, but rather than using vibrant colors, I enjoy the use of an earth tone pallete instead. You could say I favor the color brown above all.
Sometimes my canvas is filled with heavy, oil painting type strokes. Other times it’s like a light watercolor coating. Regardless, the end result is a masterpiece worthy of the Louvre.
Inexplicably, my mother is not a fan of my painting. The subject matter is highly entertaining ranging from stick figures, to bigger stick figures to paw prints. Doesn’t matter, she hates my work.
October 3 | 2 Comments
My mother is a candle freak.
No, I mean it. She lights candles in every room of the house, presumably for the smell. She must be heavily invested in Yankee Candle stock.
One thing’s for sure, she doesn’t light them to get my old man in a romantic mood. Heck, to him a night of romance is eating a rack of bbq ribs, watching Dumb and Dumber, and farting under the covers.
His repertoire lacks lit candles. You’ll find nothing flickering in the bedroom, or around the bath tub, or in between my bowl of water and kibble. I guess it’s just not in his DNA to create a loving mood.
August 17 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
At my age, I prefer the comforts of a soft bed and a body fitting pillow over a death dash with local traffic.
Let’s be honest, if I were in a hostage situation (ahem…Dog Day Afternoon, anyone?), I’d be released first, before the women and children. I guess that’s just the nature of growing old.
An old dog can learn new tricks, it’s just that he (me!) doesn’t want to.
August 9 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
I strive to create something wonderful and special every day, and no, I’m not talking about the words I type on this blog. Granted, it’s prose Shakespeare would be proud of, but it’s really my second calling.
My first calling? Sculpting.
To be more precise, forming my poo into works of art.
On days where I don’t feel inspired, I’ll usually create my mass market favorite, The Dairy Queen Swirl. On other days I might create The Coffee Log or The Snake or my favorite, The Splatter.
I know they’re good. Why else would my mother pick them up and save them in little plastic bags? Read more
August 8 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
His bowl, his hydrant and his heroes.
Before you get any ideas about who falls into the latter category, rest assured few, if any humans reside there. It is strictly reserved for the likes of Rin-Tin-Tin, Cujo and Scooby Doo.
Yeah that’s right, Scooby Freakin’ Doo.
That hound had more guts than a slaughter house on a Friday afternoon. Read more
July 26 | 1 Comment
That was the reason I wrote my book, the national best seller Bad to the Bone: Memoir of a Rebel Doggie Blogger. By putting paw to keyboard to computer screen, I was able to secure my place in history. Of course this presumes the Library of Congress doesn’t shut down like so many of our local libraries.
There are other, less taxing ways to stay in the hearts and minds of people the world over. Think about Rin-Tin-Tin, Lassie and of course Cujo. They’re all celluloid heroes, not to be confused by Kirsty Alley, a cellulite hero. Read more
July 15 | 2 Comments
I was debating on whether I should make this a featured story or put it in the product review section. I decided it was too important not to highlight, so that’s why you’re reading here. Besides, I don’t have an actual product to truly test.
So what is the cause of my dilemma?
Dog nose jewelery.
July 26 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
Even though my life is great, I always feel there’s someplace better to be. Sometimes it’s as close as the other side of the fence, other times it’s as far away as Europe.
In practical terms this means wanting to whiz on the lightpole on the corner of my street or letting loose a red, white, and blue stream of B20 on the Eiffel Tower.
It all really depends on how ambitious I feel that day.
July 21 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
There’s an accusation from my father that his wife, my dear mother, is poisoning him.
Sadly, I agree. How else to explain his shift in attitude from watching Animal Planet every night to watching Dateline, 20/20, or 16 and Pregnant? She’s poisoned him alright, and it’s gone straight to his brain.
But that’s not the kind of poisoning he was alluding to. No, he’s complaining about being compromised by the food she feeds him.
July 7 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
While they spent the week at the beach taking in the sun, the water and gobs of fatty food I was relegated to camp activities where I did my best to steer clear of getting a doggie shiv to the intestines from Bruiser the Pit Bull. For what it’s worth, once I gave him my Milkbone money, the threat was notably reduced.