fuzzy, black dogs

fuzzy, black dogs
All three of my fuzzy, black dogs -- Bob, Ace and Lilly.

Phillip's Scenic Overlook

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Freeze Pop Diet Makes New Year's Resolution List

I've got some big plans in the works for the year 2013. With that being said, there's no time like the present to get started planning out my New Year's resolutions.

My first one will be to branch out and eat more greens. You know, besides M&M's, Skittles and jellybeans. And, no, I'm not just putting that in to appease my Mom, who does happen to read my blog.

I also resolve to bathe all three fuzzy, black dogs more. More regularly. Occasionally. Either that or invest in a doggy-sitter who will wash them for me. One of them gets smelly!

For the big one, I resolve to be an understanding and patient, yet nurturing father who worries more for the safety of his newly driving son than for the vehicle that said newly driving son could potentially destroy.

I also resolve to perfect the freeze pop diet. My weight went in the wrong direction, so back to the drawing board.

I resolve to drink more.

Wait, I resolve to amend my previous resolution by saying that I will drink more healthy stuff. You know, besides fermented barley and hops.

I resolve to amend it further to include fermented grapes. Oh, and anything else that could be fermented, you know, like rice for saki. And...

Okay, I resolve to consume only alcohol that is deemed healthy for me.

I resolve to test, taste and discover which kind of alcohol it is that is good for me. I promise to let my readers know when I find it.

My final resolution? Easy! I resolve to continue publishing enjoyable and fun (and hopefully funny) posts on Fuzzy, Black Dogs throughout the next year!

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Dear Santa, I Tried to be Good...

Dear Santa,

I've been good this year, relatively speaking. In fact, I've been a good husband, father, brother, son-in-law, uncle, brother-in-law, dog owner, teacher, friend, tutor, employee and inspirational role model.

I suppose my dog owner persona could probably use some improvement, but the incident in question, Santa... Well, it was justified.

Regardless, I'm really not asking for too much this year, I don't think, but I'll let you be the judge of that. With that being said, here it is:

I want a grill, Santa. I want a giant two stage, four grill top wide gas grill with all the bells and whistles, including the extra side burners, food prep station and locking wheels.

Also, Santa, I want a car. You know, that 'special' car. Do I really need to describe the "dream scream machine" again for the 40th time?

Just make sure it has that one feature where it is undetectable to police radar and scanners. There's no reason for that, really. I've just always thought it would be a neat feature...

I also want a clue. I never knew I needed one until after I got married and had a child. They sometimes tell me I need one, though I'm not sure why.

I appreciate the job, Santa. I really do. However, I was unaware of the fact that I had to specify that the six figures I requested the job have all come to the LEFT of the decimal point.

No more dogs, please, Santa! I've reached my quota of fuzzy, black dogs (or white, brown, golden or any other color dog for that matter).

Tell you what, Santa. Here's the rest of my list in one big lump. Many of these have been described before in pretty good detail, so I feel certain you know what I'm talking about by now.

A bass boat, a computer, books, a Karmen Ghia (it's a different car!), a dirt bike, five extra hours in a day, books, a beer making machine, a volunteer yard maintenance crew, books, a sailboat, an in deck hot tub and maybe some more books.

This is only the abbreviated version, Santa. Feel free to contact me if you want me to send the extended, full version of my wish list.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Illness Suffering Causes Profound Thoughts

I managed to pick up a pretty decent illness a good week or more before Thanksgiving. It wasn't until Nov. 28 when I actually made it to the doctors office. The doctor and I made an interesting discovery. I had walking pneumonia!

Happily, I've got three days worth of pain reliever and antibiotics in me and am beginning to feel more like my old self again.

However, during the three worse days, I spent many, many hours in my bed coming up with good jokes and deep philosophical ponderings, as well as having many weird, bizarre dreams.

I will spare you the weird, bizarre dreams. I don't want to give my readers nightmares. I've been told by two sources that the jokes aren't that good. So that leaves us with the deep philosophical ponderings. Here are some that came to mind:

How is it that I develop more earwax when I'm sick than when I am well?

How is it that my 14 year old son can find a small piece of hidden candy within seconds, yet be unable to locate the shoes he took off minutes ago?

How is it that my wife is always right and I am always wrong?

How is it that there are no apples in the jar labeled 'apple jelly' in my refrigerator?

How is it that pain experienced increases proportionately the closer it gets to bed time?

How is it that a brainless machine, aka, my car, knows when will be the worst time to break down and does?

How is it that the best tasting things are generally the worst in regards to your health?

How is it that the hole in your pants pocket is always in the pocket in which you keep your loose change?

How is it that the distance it takes to go on vacation is longer than the distance it takes to come back home?

How is it that you can wear a hole in only one sock of a matching pair?

How is it that the holes in your jeans gravitate from the knees to the butt as you get older?

How is it that people seem to think if you have multiple dogs, taking on one more is really no big deal?