April 25, 2007

-- Last night Toney was on the phone with her mother (Sunshine), and the boys were playing on the floor of the living room making one hell of racket. The TV was on as well, and it sounded like there were 25 people talking at once.    

I couldn’t take it anymore, so I yelled, “It sounds like a freakin’ Chuck E. Cheese in here!” and went upstairs and started reading on the bed. Andy apparently couldn’t handle it either, and joined me.

So it was me, Bentley Little , and man’s best friend, in the quiet sanctuary of the bedroom. Then Toney opened the front door downstairs, and our stupid dog was thrown into one of his frenzies. His ears perked up, he stood on the bed at high-alert, then used my right thigh as a launching pad for his investigation.

He cut a twelve-inch swooping gash in my leg with the big Kruegers on his rear paws. Well, gash might be a bit dramatic, but it was a big honkin’ scratch. And I started howling like a retard at a potato-sack race, as that idiot dog crashed through the hallway, and down the stairs.

And when I showed Toney the giant blood-drizzling rip in my skin, she laughed. Laughed! I don’t know what it is, but whenever I get hurt my wife thinks it’s nothing short of hilarious. Every. Single. Time.

Yes, it’s very important to have a strong support network.

-- Since we’re on the subject, I’ve got a little more information on the ridiculous novelty dog I’ve been seeing tip-toeing around at the neighbors’ house all week.

Before he nearly amputated my right leg, we took Andy for a walk yesterday evening. The neighbor with the new laughable dog was in her front yard when we passed by, and Toney struck up a conversation.

Apparently they're only keeping the hilarious Dr. Seuss hound for a friend, and it doesn’t actually belong to them. But check this out: she said it’s a chow. Now, I’m no expert on the subject, but I’ve never seen a chow with long spindly legs, and a mane. I’m highly skeptical. I think she’s hiding something. It reminds me of the Coneheads telling everyone they’re from France.

And another thing… there were delays in the conversation, disconcerting delays. Toney would ask the woman a question, and there’d be a gap of silence before she answered, as if she were speaking via videophone from Iraq.

What up wit’ dat? Do you think our neighbors are from outer space? I believe it’s a real possibility. I’ll try to get a picture of this so-called “chow” in the coming days, and maybe we can put this mystery to bed.

Unless, of course, I’m sucked into the mothership the very
moment I upload this. Holy shit on a sugar cone!

-- We’re planning to spend Sunday in Gettysburg. We need distractions, people. I’m losing my flakin’ mind hanging around this house, just eating chicken salad sandwiches and looking out the windows all the time like Mrs. Kravitz. A day away will do us all some good, I think.

And we’re also going to take my parents up on an offer they made us a few weeks back. They have a big camper in storage at Myrtle Beach, and they said we could use it whenever we want. 

It’s one of those big babies, with the slide-outs and the whole nine yards. And all we’ll have to do is make reservations at the campground, and the people there will have it all set-up and ready for us when we arrive.

How cool is that? No dragging the rolling box o’ beds up and down the east coast. No more emasculating camper-backing episodes. No propane tanks working themselves free in Virginia, and blowing up a Stuckey’s. None of that, with all the benefits.

So, when Toney gets home this afternoon we’re gonna pick four or five days on the calendar, and just do it. Because we need distractions, people.

-- I received an email this morning from a guy who wants to interview me for a radio show in Switzerland. He’s interested in the Ads vs. Reality page (of course), and says he read about it in an Italian newspaper. 

My brain is starting to hurt…

-- Yahoo sent me this icon yesterday, and urged me to place it on my website. So, I’m doing as I was told.

-- Surf Reporter Matt sends along these photos he snapped in the parking lot of a school near his house. Man, those auxiliary classrooms are getting smaller and smaller, aren’t they?

-- Here’s a handful of fresh new Smoking Fish sightings, including one that might be pushing the limits a bit. But thanks folks, I really appreciate it. And keep ‘em coming!

-- Before I turn it over to Brad, I have a quick question (or two) for ya…. For reasons I cannot figure out, I’m suddenly very interested in reading Stephen King’s The Stand. The problem? It’s 1168 pages long. 

I’ve never read anything that thick. I did read a biography of Benjamin Franklin once that was something like 800 pages. I didn’t think I’d ever get to the end of it, and the thing hung around my neck for weeks and weeks, almost causing me to cry a few times. 

But this Stand deal is that, plus another book or so tacked-on!

Have you read it? Is it worth the pain? And if you haven’t read it, what’s the tallest book you’ve ever taken on? Can you beat my 800 page Ben Franklin book which seemed to unfold in real-time, and lasted roughly as long as the man actually lived? Tell us about it, won’t you?

-- But not before you read the latest from Brad, right here. Do that first.

And I’ll see you guys tomorrow.

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Last updated
01/17/12 12:12 PM

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