Hello October!

What’s new trusted and committed reader? I hope this update finds you well in this post Breaking Bad pre Walking Dead purgatory we find ourselves in.

Me? I’m good. In my last update I mentioned a new member to the pack at home. Coconut Head has made himself at home and is as thick as thieves with my other two scoundrels I call my best friends. We’re one BIG happy family now and things are running smoothly. IMG_1503

Can you guess which one is the alpha pack leader?

You know when a dog has accepted you as their master and trusts you completely. He / She will come up to you without provocation and lick you on the face. Genetically from when dogs were wolves a face to face licking is a sign of submission and acceptance. This hasn’t changed in any dog breeds or since man has domesticated the animals. Today for the first time since I brought him home, Coconut Head my Mastiff came up to me this morning and stared at me then licked my face. Now I was on the throne taking a shit at the time, but we keep things real in my house so it was all good.

If I have learned anything in life from dogs its the following. Dogs simply do not care who you are, what you do, what you look like, how much money you make, or how much you lie through your teeth trying to convince others that you are all the things you are not. In the simplest of terms if you can show an ounce of compassion, love, and leadership a dog will accept you, love you back and follow you to the grave. How much more simple can life get? We as humans often over complicate relationships and look where we end up? Oh and one more thing. Never say never. I swore I’d never get another male dog, I swore I’d never get a smaller dog. I also swore I’d never get three dogs. Yet here I am finding the most honest of life’s pleasures of owning three male dogs, and the profound simple enjoyment of being appreciated for providing a decent home to these animals by the mere lick of the face while taking a morning shit.

My next serious relationship with a woman I am simply going to state up front, love me and I’ll love you. Lead me and I will follow. Be honest with who you are and I wont care. From time to time I may lick your face when you take a shit to show you how much I love and appreciate you. (ok maybe not the last part but whatever, never say never right? She may be into that kind of thing)

I am convinced we can get a heck of a lot further in life and in happiness if we take a few lessons from our dogs. In the words of Walter White, “Cheer up beautiful people this is where you get to make it right.”

I love October. Besides being my birth month, October is one damn fine month in Florida. The weather usually breaks down here. By breaks I mean it goes from 90’s to 80’s on average with a slightly easier humidity point. Yes, it feels like fall. It has to be fall. Pumpkins are showing up on church lawns, and grocery stores. Walmart has Thanksgiving and Christmas shit out already, so it has to be fall. Three weeks into football season. My Harley is getting washed and ready for some road time. It is fall!

Let ‘er rip tater chips.


cookWhat’s up faithful reader? Hope this update finds you well. I certainly can’t complain. I have some news, some observations, maybe a rant or bitch or two and well lets get into the meat of it all and waste no more time.

Lately I have been noticing change. Change in everything really. Obviously things need to change and change is natural. I don’t mind change at all and if I am prepared for it.  I usually welcome change. However I am a firm believer in that once a person or item or situation reached its fundamental pinnacle of perfection or awesomeness then it should be left alone. Of course this doesn’t work with everything otherwise things become stale and life would be boring. So although I preach and welcome the idea of change there is just some shit I wish would be left the hell alone. I’ll give an example.

Fruit Loops! With the exception of raisin bran or oatmeal I probably haven’t ate cereal in twenty plus years. Recently I have delved back into the realm of sugary children’s cereal for breakfast consumption. Now back in the day before all this Michele Obama healthy eating school lunch bullshit and other organic natural food kick there was an entire population of Generation X kids like myself that mainly subsisted on Fruit Loops, Happy Meals, and Totinos toaster oven pizza.

Last week, I bought a box of Fruit Loops Cereal. Right across the top of the box, right above that crazy fucking Toucan Sam with his LBGT friendly rainbow snout is the words, “made with whole grain.” I was like “oh thats nice a healthier option for the kids with anal parents.” I search throughout the grocery store shelves for the “old school gangster” Fruit Loops. You remember the kind made with white enriched full gluten crackling goodness in the three basic colors, and lacquered in pure sugar and the finest of high fructose corn syrup that left the milk in the bowl a rainbow tinged slurry of milk sugar that could keep a kid going all day.

Here I am slinging boxes of this fake Fruit Loop crap behind me in my quest for the real Fruit Loops of my youth. After standing in a pile of semi healthy boxes of Fruit Loops at my feet, and garnering more then one dirty look from a passerby and the fat pig in the electric cart who could not pass my General Mills cereal barricade I realize this new healthful brand of Fruit Loops is all there is for sale. Pissed off I grab a box (hey I am not a quitter and will try anything once) and I punt my way out of the pile of Fruit Loops around my feet swearing under my breath about another lost childhood staple and how the world is in a downward spiral to hell all somehow connected to this new bullshit healthy whole grain version of Fruit Loops.

The following week, I crack open the box one morning and pour a bowl full out. Right away I can tell the actual bits of cereal while still round seem to be smaller and more dense then what I remember of the crack like full puffiness of the originals. Secondly theres about three to four more neon colors in the cereal that I know were not in the original version. I pour in some milk and resign myself to the passing of another staple of my childhood. The taste was ok I guess, and while there was some semblance of the sugary milk payday at the end, it was just not the same.

Why did we have to screw with Fruit Loops? What did we gain? A generation of children grew up eating the old Fruit Loops. Hell Fruit Loops are generally the first real food babies are given to eat. My mother poured the cereal out dry onto the tray of my high chair and I ate those circles of sugary goodness before I could say my name and not crap my diaper. This is where I do not believe in change.

IMG_1476Good Change? A little over a year ago I said goodbye to my angel Golden Retriever Lucille due to cancer. As of this afternoon I now have three dogs in this house with me. A Cocker Spaniel, a Mastiff bulldog mix, and a full AKC Dogue De Bordeaux. Yea I know I haven’t quite got past the point of wondering if I am slowly slipping into “crazy cat lady” like insanity but so far so good. Everyone is getting along, no aggressive posturing so it looks like the pack is growing in size.

His official name is Coconut Head. All my dogs are named after characters from the movie Cool Hand Luke. I pretty much have the main characters of the movie covered now. Lucas, Dragline and now Coconut Head. (Coco) for short. Coco handles all the bets for cool drinks. “Coco we got us a bet here!”

In reality I don’t call any of them by their names. They are all referred to some size of “nug” or nugget. I have Little nugget (short for butt nugget) middle nugget and now big nugget or big nug. mmm yea no really I’m not losing my mind at all.

Anyway this is probably it for me. As I look around the house its not crowded and there is plenty of room for the four of us, but as it stands I can probably only comfortably walk these three dogs at a time. Its also probably on the threshold of lunacy I’ll have to try and  explain away to any future girlfriends I may invite over here.

More good change is Apple finally released the new iOS 7. Lots of people commenting that it looks cartoonish etc. In the end I am finding it a step up in the right direction from what we had with version 6. When it comes to electronics and computers most people get used to something and denounce change but in the end change is good in this case. The evolution of computers and science is based on change and without change well we cant hope to survive as a species. iTunes radio is also about six weeks away from driving the first of the numbered few nails into the coffin of Pandora internet radio. You heard it hear first folks. Watch.

Anyone been watching the final season of Breaking Bad? I’m on that every Sunday night like stank on shit. I am going to be sad when the series ends this next Sunday, but with change there is always something more. Saul Goodman the slick assed lawyer from the show, is getting his own series on AMC. Yep “Better Call Saul” is getting his own show. It will be a prequel of sorts detailing how Saul Goodman came to be the scumbag lawyer we all have come to love. I personally can not wait.

That’s about it.

Let ‘er rip, tater chips!

It’s been a while

It’s been awhilelucillelight
Since I couldn’t
Hold my head up high
And it’s been awhile
Since I said, “I’m sorry”

A year ago tomorrow I lost my Golden Retriever, Lucille to cancer. The hows and whys have been discussed and documented in this blog over the last year so I wont bore the audience with rehashing of the past.

I have been thinking about this approaching anniversary with mixed emotions. I wont lie its been mostly dread and sadness. Dread and sadness because I find myself slowly forgetting the small things about the dog. Her smell, her soft fur, how she would follow or look at me when I talked to her or her paws smelling like Fritos. The tangible things we take for granted. I’ll always carry her memory in my heart and mind, but the small things with time slip away.

I have rescued a couple or new dogs since Lucille has left, and while I have just as much an attachment to them as I did to her, its not the same. I didn’t hold these dogs at a week old. While I know both these new dogs are as happy and content to be here with me now, and the happiness I have in looking at them in their gratified lives there are times I still miss Lucille and wish she was here. All in all I guess I am right where I expected to be mentally a year later. I give myself a C+ or 73%

It’s also been a while since I posted up any McAwesome recipes over in the food section. Well fear not, its summer and its BBQ season. I have been experimenting on brisket and ribs these last few weeks.

BBQ is such a subjective issue with people. It doesn’t matter if I made ribs, chicken, or whatever standing next to Jesus H. Christ himself and my food was touched by the hand of the son of God. People are generally particular about what they consider good BBQ and thats BBQ that they make themselves or were raised eating.

Another reason this is true is because with the exception of a very few restaurants across this country making and selling true low and slow BBQ for profit is a no win proposition. To properly smoke a brisket takes 12-15 hours. Ribs 5-7 hours. Pulled pork 10 hours. So most restaurants cheat the BBQ and cook these meats conventionally in a more expeditious manner to remain profitable. This is the biggest reason when you go out to eat BBQ why its generally just ok. Nothing to knock your socks off or better then what you have done yourself at home following the most traditional BBQ cooking methods.

Well I have been playing around with my ribs recipe. Both my spare and baby back loin ribs and I am making and eating ribs in less then one hour and twenty minutes start to finish. If you didn’t see how I do it, I could put the ribs up with any restaurants and frankly enter them into BBQ contests and Im sure half those idiot judges would passing grade them.

I’ll put a rib recipe up in a few days with the trick. There will be true BBQ enthusiast controversy involved in the manner in which I get them done so quick, but then you can ask yourself, “Do I want ribs like within an hour or do I want to plan an entire day around them?”

Let me get this next part out of the way for the NSA and Uncle Sam in case they are reading along too. “Eat my ass!”

Nothing is private anymore folks. If you don’t want others knowing your business don’t put it out there.

That’s about the size of things. It’s a new day and a new week.

Let ‘er rip tater chips!

Shelter From the Storm

Dragline on CouchSuddenly I turned around and she was standing there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns
“Come in” she said
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm” -Bob Dylan

It’s another Wednesday and by now we’ve all probably have succumbed to the notion that the weekend has left us and we’re faced with another mid-week of skullduggery in the work place.

Nothing new or much to report. I pretty much have been getting used to two dogs in the house these last two weeks. It’s been smooth sailing so far without even the first problem with two male dogs in the house. Both play, get along, and tolerate each other well. I was rather nervous at first, but those apprehensions weren’t founded.

Don’t take my guns! Wait. What? Fifteen year old girls can buy Plan B contraception over the counter without parental guidance or prescription? HOLD THE F’ing TRAIN! Stop the presses. This ladies and gentleman is the height of republican hypocrisy.

Heres the bottom line folks. If you do not want your underage daughters to be able to run into a drug store and buy over the counter contraception without a prescription, then very simply…..don’t raise them to be sluts. Be a parent, teach them values, morals and to have respect for themselves. Teach them the values of sex, love and trust and how each is required with a good dose of maturity to navigate the world of having sex and making love. Do all those things and you wont have to worry about them running into CVS to buy Plan B because she snuck out her window and banged Hector the lawn maintenance guy on the air conditioning compressor in the back of the house.

You want your guns and assault rifles left alone, and you claim as long as we’re all law abiding their existence and availability is ok. Then same goes for Plan B being sold over the counter to those young ladies who may need it. You should have nothing to worry about you’re raising your daughters with morals and trust, this doesn’t affect you so don’t think you can assert your will and opinions on others just like you don’t want someone telling you that you don’t need an AK-47 or AR-15 assault rifle.

Now for me, I want my assault rifles, high capacity magazines and all the Plan B I can get my hands on. Why? Simple. Generally the majority of our population is lazy and you’re raising thieves and sluts. I need the weapons to protect myself and property from your sons and the Plan B to screw your daughters.

Semper Fi do or die,
Let ‘er rip tater chip

Mary, Mary why you buggin’

Mary, Mary I need ya huggin’

Sorry was getting my throwback on with a little Run DMC. Such simpler times those were. Sometimes I really miss them and at others I’m happily contented that they are long gone.

Well its Friday again, there’s a hurricane offshore and the local media is in another full fledged “oh shit” panic attack because of it. To better illustrate the insanity of hurricanes and the local media for all you long distance readers of this blog, right about now all the native Florida “crackers” (non-derogatory term for life long Floridians) are pretty much wishing for another Romney/Obama commercial on TV as compared to another “weather bimbo” screaming about the destructive forces and possible cone of death we may or may not be in the path of. Its absolutely mind numbing to listen to the idiots on tv prognosticate about hurricanes. In the end though I guess its necessary because if theres anything I have learned from simple observation in life its that inherently people are stupid.

By now everyone knows Donald Trump is half a choad and surfs the waves of douchebaggery.  Earlier this week “The Donald” issued an offer to President Obama. The offer was simple, release all college transcripts entrance applications and his application for a passport and in exchange Mr. Trump would within an hour write a check for $5 Million dollars to any charity of President Obama’s choosing. That is 5 million dollars!!  A five and six zeros and two commas to the left of the decimal point for all you playing at home.

We all know Trump loves publicity and is an opportunists at every turn. Trump makes no bones about it. But lets look at this a little deeper and at its most fundamental core.

Who the hell is Barack Obama? Get past all the birther bullshit. (we’ll even disregard for a moment his “long form birth certificate is fake with every single document expert and authority stating as much) Who is the guy? Every single President before him has disclosed every single piece of information that Obama has under lock and key. Why is that?

I dont care that Obama smoked dope and sold coke in college. I don’t care that his grades reflect he’s a moron. We know all this already. My question is simple. Why hide this information from the public? Bush was an idiot and he put his grades out there to prove it. He didnt hide from it.

Obama claims to be transparent and run a transparent administration. Meaning everything is open to public and above board. Why does that train come crashing to a screaming halt whenever the finger is pointed to his past?

Do you folks realize President Obama went to college, post graduate, received a law degree and there isnt even a paragraph of a book report written by this man about a nursery rhyme? Who the hell is he?

Well Brock he wrote a book isn’t that good enough?

I’ll be honest, I read “his” books. I wanted to know who the hell the guy was more then “well Oprah loves him”. If you were like me and read the books then you know they are not his words. Those words belong to Bill Ayers. You might not know him. I’ll help you. He is essentially a homegrown terrorist who was part of the communist group called the Weather Underground in the 1960’s. Ayers and his pals bombed government buildings and police stations in protest of the Vietnam war. Ayers is popular in the corrupt Chicago liberal scene and has written a lot. Take a look at some of his writing and then Obama’s books. Just beware of the lightning during your own personal watershed moment.

When you get past the bullshit of Trump and then all the liberal media labeling him an idiot for making the offer to Obama for his transcripts, there is a fundamental issue at hand here.

Why does Obama jump up and down demanding that Mitt Romney should disclose twenty years of tax returns, but Obama tells Trump to go fuck himself before he releases a simple piece of paper showing his request to attend Occidental, Columbia or Harvard?

Not only does Obama tell Trump to blow himself, Obama tells the very people of this country he claims to represent (middle class, under privileged, poor) to go to hell that essentially any charitable group representing those people in this country or world is NOT worth $5 Million dollars to Obama!

Do you know what $5 Million dollars buys for say Michelle Obama’s fat kid school lunch crap initiative?

This is the easiest and quickest $5 Million dollars this man will ever see in his life. All this for a simple couple of pieces of paper. Obama wont do it. Why? Obama has an opportunity to score a metric ton of cash for some people who could really use that money to make a difference. Obama has a chance to take a metric ton of money from a bonafide jackoff and shut him up for all eternity. Why wouldn’t he do that?

I’ll tell you why. Obama is a fraud. Everything about the mans life is bullshit. You think Bernie Madoff pulled a scam on the people of the world in epic proportions? You haven’t seen anything yet. When it comes to light, what and who Obama really is and has done to this country it will make Madoff look like he only stole a box of Girl Scout thin mints. The fraud Obama has perpetrated to get into office and then what he has done while there will only be surpassed on the shame the people of this nation will share in for putting him in the office in the first place. We all fell asleep at the switch, and for what? Some glimmer of “hope and change” when we were really down on our luck and starring into the abyss?

What did all of our grandfathers and mothers and their parents and the greatest generation that saved the world and this country teach us? We deserve what we do to each other under Obama. We put him in office. What we cant do, is go back to that greatest generation and honor their sacrifices and regain their trust for what we have done.

Obama’s got nothing and has done nothing. I am smart enough to see through his bullshit, and his biased and contextually incorrect “facts”. That doesn’t bother me. All politicians do that. My problem is far more simple. Who is Obama?

I’ll take Mitt this time. Is he showing up on some issues crooked as a dogs hind leg? You bet your ass he is. The difference is he shows up crooked and not a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I’ll take that honesty in a scumbag any day.

Yes, “The Donald” may have a bad hairpiece and be a douche. When you get past all that, he cuts to the quick and knows a dirtbag when he sees one. Donald is dead on this time and he has $5 Million reasons in his pocket on why he is 100% correct.

Off the soap box and quick Lucas update:

Does your dog watch TV? Mine does. Well let me rephrase. All my dogs have watched TV.

When my Golden Retriever Lucille was around she really didn’t care about the TV when it was on. That is unless I was watching Cesar Millan the Dog Whisperer on National Geographic. No matter what if I turned on Cesar and there were dogs running around Lucille would walk up to the TV and very closely watch what the dogs on tv were doing.

Fast forward. Now there is a new dog around since Lucille decided to deprive me of her company.

Lucas doesn’t care much about TV. Same as Lucille. Lucas also doesn’t give a damn about Cesar and his pack of dogs. However Lucas doesn’t like scary movies. Paranormal Activity #3 to be exact.

I was watching Paranormal Activity 3 on Netflix this past week. I have enjoyed these movies in that past. They are silly and go for the cheap scare. Every time the suspense would build and I was getting that feeling of “oh shit something about to happen” Lucas would be staring at the TV growling and barking. It was so strange. There wasnt anything on the screen to catch his attention, but the suspense was building up and sure enough in a second or two…bam. Something scary would happen. Lucas would bark, growl and I’d piss myself.

Little guy has some heart. He was all bowed up ready to roll. I was so proud. The scene in the movie would calm down, so would he. Suspense would build back up, there was Lucas ready to throw down again.

So I can happily report two things. All my dogs have taken notice and actively watched some kind of TV program with great interest. Second, Paranormal Activity 3 is pretty good if you enjoy suspenseful cheap shock factor of these kind of movies.


You don’t have to play

You can follow or lead the way. 
 I want you to join together with the band,
We don’t know where we’re going,
But the season’s right for knowing,
I want you to join together with the band.

It’s humpday Wednesday again. I find myself wondering when will this awfully slow week end? Time just seems to be dragging along this week. This nonsense doesn’t happen between Friday afternoon and Monday morning.

Tomorrow is the vice presidential debate. I am eagerly waiting to see how Paul Ryan handles himself. My personal opinion is that a fifth grader should be able to intellectually checkmate Mr. Biden, but I am not assuming anything in this election. Paul Ryan is a smart man and he should decisively put the old fool away. Fingers are crossed.

Oh yeah, this just in. Don’t eat cockroaches for something so ridiculous as a free pet snake. Eating cockroaches generally isn’t harmful but being a dumb ass is proving to be lethal. A pet snake? Really? Ah NO.  A new Harley? Sure. A date with Jenny McCarthy and a bottle of Rohypnol? You betcha! Not a free pet snake.

Does anyone out there watch the seminal cable show on FX, Sons of Anarchy? In the last two weeks its beat everything on TV ratings wise. Kurt Sutter is the creator and writer. Its about a fictional motorcycle club. If you have not watched this program I suggest you get your Netflix fired up to catch the first three seasons, and by the time you are done with that you can catch the forth season playing now. Or is this currently the fifth season on TV now?  Hell I don’t know, but the show is 110% awesome. You don’t have to be a biker, like motorcycles, or Honey Boo Boo to like this show. The writing is perfection. I wont give any spoilers here. Watch it and come back with a two page written report for next weeks homework. Ok kidding about that last part. I was just testing out my school teacher voice.

Bananas are an awesome food. Potassium is good for your brain and the rest of your body. I like to eat bananas. Not when I am on the boat fishing. That shit is bad luck. All other times though bananas are fabulous. I especially like when I forget to eat bananas and they turn all brown and black. I turn that into banana bread. I have some in the oven right now.

Kelly Ripa made some flippant stereotype comment on her talk show yesterday about gangster dogs are probably some sort of mean Pit Bull type dogs. The internet is in an uproar about it and frankly I don’t blame it. Pit Bulls get a tremendously bad rap and its mostly by a very minority few people who know absolutely nothing about dogs at all. I’ve had in some way or other pit bulls all my life. My mother who will jump out of a moving car on the New Jersey Parkway if a bee flies into the window, has had Pit Bulls for years. Most of my close friends have one or more, and I happen to work with anywhere from a bakers dozen of them every week. In the care of knowledgeable, and loving people these dogs are probably one of the best breeds on the planet. The bad reputation these dogs have gotten over the years is in my opinion been a direct result of the people whom have owned the dogs.

Dogs are a lot like guns. There are toys that shoot caps and go bang that children can play with, and there are .50 Cal riffles that will bring down jumbo jets. Both guns in the proper hands and respected are safe and can be happily owned. If you give one of these guns to an idiot, even the toy cap gun can hurt somebody. Pit Bulls are much the same way, except the Pit Bull by its natural build is more towards the .50 Cal riffle then the toy cap gun in my above analogy. In abusive hands a Pit Bull can hurt someone. However in a loving home with responsible owners these dogs are some of the most loving and loyal dogs out of all the breeds.

That’s about it. Oh, I forgot to mention, I put chocolate chips in the banana bread.

That’s what I got for a Wednesday. Hang in there folks Friday is in sight.


I’ll meet you any time you want

In our Italian restaurant. 

It is another Monday. Beware of the suckage. So far mine isn’t too bad and the weekend was nice.

The dinner club met again this weekend hosted by my friends Amy and Allen with six of our other close friends to even include a few associated children.

A funny thing, Amy was concerned that this meet up couldn’t be classified as an official “Dinner Club” assembly because she invited eight people, when in the past it was only been four of us. I explained to her that it was nonsense and it still counted as “Dinner Club” and that the more people the better. My home is a little smaller and I had set the precedence in the meet ups to four people, but as I think about it more and more I can feed and entertain more then four and I am going to do it next time. At least I’ll extend the invitation. Folding chairs and a TV tray around the table here I come.

Amy and Allen made one damn nice dinner. Sausage and peppers over spaghetti, garlic bread, and Cesar salad. Dessert was a lemon cake with whipped cream topping. It was an excellent meal, with a great group of friends.

There are a few thoughts I came away with from the dinner club meet up from last night. The first being, as a single middle aged man, my home is decorated or should I say lack of decorating in a very appropriate manner. I am not sure how I feel about it either. I am not messy, or ultra neat and my tastes are pretty utilitarian. There is no warmth here. The house is mine and its home but there is admittedly no woman’s touch. I don’t have an eye for decorating. I can spot good color combinations, good furniture and arrange them in appropriate ways to use space wisely and efficiently, but beyond that I am useless and have no idea. Pictures, plants, window treatments, table-scape, and I am like a politician is to honest. Just not there. It is not that I don’t want or wish my home had the warmth of a discerning eye of a great woman, its just I can definitely see that my home lacks it for certain.

The next thing I came away with is the reinforcement of the meaning of friendship. My refrigerator like most in the free world is a place for pizza, pest control, and other associated magnets. These magnets hold pictures of things I enjoy looking at. My nieces, goddaughter, and my dogs. A few years ago, Amy, Allen and myself would take our dogs (Lucille and Tucker) out on Amy and Allen’s boat to the intracoastal / sandbar and let the dogs swim and run all day. Amy took some pictures of Tucker and Lucille a few years ago and those pictures have been on my refrigerator ever since. Last night at dinner, Amy pointed out one of the same pictures of Lucille and Tucker on her refrigerator. Now I know for a fact Amy has had this picture of Tucker and Lucille on her fridge for some time. I have seen it there before. Last night however when Amy pointed out the picture to me, I dawned on me that these are friends. Lucille not only lives on in a pictures in my house with her buddy Tucker, but she also lives on in the thoughts of Amy and Allen too. All too often in our busy lives we forget and take for granted small things like friendships and people in our lives. All it takes is a simple picture on a refrigerator to remind you of that goodness. Last night I was reminded of that goodness again. When I thought no one was looking Tucker got a piece of my lemon cake right from my fork that I happily used after to keep eating the cake from his mouth to mine.

Today I am making turkey pot pie from scratch. I’ll post the recipe and writeup in the recipe section later. Its a good way to get rid of a lot of crap in the kitchen. You’ll enjoy this one.

Today I am also going to set up the end grain cutting board ordering page come hell or high water. I almost had it done Friday, but I broke the database with the application I had for the online ordering and spent most of Friday fixing what I broke. After some research and simplification I will try again.

Stay tuned.

When tragedy befalls you, don’t let it drag you down

Love can cure your problems,
You’re so lucky I am around. 

I havent been fortunate enough to have any children of my own yet so the closest comparison I can relate to are my dogs. They have been as much my children to me as a kid is to a parent I venture to guess. Its with that understanding I relate this story.

Recently I got news of an old friend of mine whom tragedy of the worst kind has befallen. The hows and whys are not important but I’ll tell you when I say the worst kind, yea worst kind. A parent having to burry a child. Even though in this case it was a step child, but knowing this person it hardly would have mattered to her. This person was always an open hearted type woman that seemed to like or at least give everyone a fair chance so biological or step child probably had no real distinction to her anyway.

When I heard the news, of course you go through the emotions of loss and heartache for that person. I couldn’t help but think about my Golden Retriever, Lucille whom I lost this summer to cancer/tumor at only four and a half years old.

I can’t remember my parents or brothers birthdays without looking it up somewhere. I cant remember anniversaries, valentines day (any wonder I dont have kids?). I know my own birthday and the Marine Corps birthday. I also know June 11, 2012.

On June 11th of this year, after dropping my sick dog off to a veterinarian for emergency surgery I got “That” call.

Mr. Kingston we got her on the table and opened her up and it was bad. I worked as fast as I could to fix her up, the mass on her spleen was large. I got it all out, but due to the blood loss and anemia her heart was going a million miles an hour. She arrested just as I was finishing up. We got some meds into her and I got her heart re-started once. Five minutes later she arrested again and nothing I could do would get her going again. I’m so sorry.

That was it. That was all I had left of Lucille. I think I held it together long enough to thank the doctor for trying and hung up the phone. I ah, yea, I collapsed after that and the rest of the day is gone from my memory.

Parenthetically sure Lucille was my “child”. What the hell was I going to do now? I know those deep horrible feelings of loss. I felt horrible for my friend Gabrielle. This wasn’t a pet for her, this was a child. If I felt that way over a dog, a pet, how can you quantify that when its another person? Its not so hard for me. My pets have always been my kids. Maybe if I have a kid one day I’ll see the difference, but I somehow doubt it. So in a way, I know where my friend Gabrielle and her family is right, now. It’s shit.

But I also know something else. Something else I am certain Gabrielle will later get to feel too.

You see after an amount of time, that only you know the amount of, “love” comes back through your door. Love from your family, friends, your pets you lost, and the people you may have lost. That love and time, fixes everything and shines the light of perspective back into your life. All you have to do is let it in.

I volunteer a few hours a week at an animal shelter for an obligation for me and for Lucille. I rescued a dog from that shelter that I connected with. This is how the love I had for Lucille has manifested itself back into my life. The work is sometimes gross and a pain, but I come home and see Lucas jump on a particular couch and look out the window, just like a certain Golden Retriever did her entire life and I know what I am doing and the path I am on is the right one. That is my love.

I have cursed god, cursed doctors, cursed luck, cursed myself, cursed everything over the loss of Lucille. I needed to curse all those things. I needed the time to curse all those things. Now, I am done.

I got plenty of love back in my life and thats good enough. When i see Lucille and Jasper again with Lucas and whatever other four legged children I may have in my life, I’ll be a bigger baller that that bastard Cesar Millan, and I wont be whispering shit with my pack. We’ll be running and swimming with War Pigs turned up to fucking 11.

Gabrielle, If you read this, I miss you and I love you. Be strong and you got this!

Tamper if you like between the doors.

I suggest you step out on your porch.
Run away my son to see it all.

Guess we should update everyone on the “Help me name my new dog poll”.

Say hello to “Lucas Jackson War Hero”.  Lucas came home with me yesterday after working at the shelter. No more crate of shame and he seems all the more happy for it. (although he does have a crate here his is going to live in when I am not home)

As one may expect he’s been running around sniffing and checking out the new digs. So far so good no accidents in house. I am pretty certain he’s housebroken but I take him out often and watch him like a hawk. Lucas isn’t afraid of water as he walked right into the shower last night when I called him so he got his first bath. If I lay down, he lays down. If I get up, he gets up. I seem to have another shadow again.

This weekend will be mostly chilling out with Lucas and getting him used to his new home. Well that and probably getting douched out by tropical storm Isaac. We could use the rain in Florida so it’s hardly an issue other then for the local news and weather stations getting everyone into a full on “oh shit a storms coming” lather. Happens at least fifteen times each hurricane season down here. No native Floridians pay any attention to hurricane warnings until sixty hours out. Anything more in hurricane prognostication is at best a wild ass’d guess no matter what “computer” models may show you or how much the local weather imbecile may be ranting.

So with this entry I’ll bust out a TGIF, and hope everyone has a decent weekend.


Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song

I get by with a little help from my friends.

I get high with a little help from my friends.

I am going to try with a little help from my friends.

Working at the shelter today and I was greeted by this little guy. We go way back. Way back to about two weeks ago. You see he was adopted out early last week. Prior to that time he and I had made good friends. He’s a 2-3 year old Cocker Spaniel. I would go down to his room in shelter and hang out with him. He was always in good spirits, behaved, and would come right up to me, stick his nose in my ear and lick my ear lobe. Just a good all around dog and I liked hanging out with him. As I said he had been adopted out so I never thought more of it. Until this morning.

Came into the shelter this morning and there he was as you can see above in the “crate of shame” since another K9 took up residence in his old room. I asked why he was back and one of the shelter workers told me “he bit the woman whom had adopted him” and that in fact “had bit the old man that had adopted him prior to this incident”. I told shelter worker how surprised I was because I had spent time with the dog and thought he was great. That’s when the shelter worker told me that since this was his second time being brought back for biting that they were thinking the dog wasn’t going to be adoptable and they were going to have to call a Cocker Spaniel rescue somewhere to see if they could unload him.

Yeah, it took me about twenty minutes before I raised my hand and offered to foster him and give him another chance. You see I used to be a hard-nosed son of a bitch in this manner but as I have gotten older I have found myself always looking for the hard cases and I am a firm believer in second and hell sometimes even third chances. I have screwed up plenty in my life and frankly if it weren’t for some close people and family believing in me, I wouldn’t be here blogging about this now.

So with any luck tomorrow evening I am springing this little guy from his crate of shame to come home with me.

Emotionally I have made peace with losing Lucille. Mostly. 🙁 So Its time and this little shit could use a friend right about now. So could I. Home he is coming.

Now for the fun part. You may have noticed a lot of “He’s” and no name. Well it seems some at the shelter have been calling him “Playto” but he doesn’t respond to that or any other name due to the circumstances of his short but awkward life. This is where you the reader comes in. You’re all going to help me name him. So get to voting. The dog is a hard case. Lucas Jackson was a hard case. I like Lucas, but you can vote for any of the below suggestions. You can also leave a comment with a name not on the list if you want. We’ll tally up the votes this time tomorrow and highest vote wins and this dog will be forever named by the faithful readers of this blog.

What sealed fostering this dog for me? When I first looked at him a couple weeks ago, the very first thing that came to my mind was that he almost looked like a Golden Retriever just with short legs. Today I text messaged a picture of him to my friend Amy who is also a dog lover, and she replied to me, “he looks like a Golden Retriever only shorter”. F’ing Karma right there man.

So lets get out the vote friends. This election is better then the one coming in November. You get more then two choices and all the choices are better then those two lame asses we get for the White House this November.

What should I name my new dog?

  • Lucas (75%, 6 Votes)
  • Coconut-Head (13%, 1 Votes)
  • Babalugats (13%, 1 Votes)
  • Dragline (0%, 0 Votes)

Total Voters: 8

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