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!

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.

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?

Fixing America One Problem at a Time

My fellow Americans. It is with a sad, heavy heart that I announce through my blog, Fuzzy, Black Dogs, that I will not be your president for the upcoming term.

I accepted my defeat gracefully and called my fellow presidential hopefuls to offer congratulations and condolences. Though I was unable to reach Obama or Romney personally, the people I spoke with assured me that they would pass along my messages. I just hope they don't call me back when I'm working with my students in the morning. That would be embarrassing!

Despite the results from last night, I'm upbeat and busy readying myself for the 2016 election. My new party, which I created myself, will be called the Priority Party. I will be called a "buffet line candidate." Allow me to explain.

My plan is really quite simple. I'll petition a random sampling of Americans to discover what issues are important to them. I will pull out 20 that I feel should be labeled 'top priority,' hence the name Priority Party.

Then I will place them neatly on a table and randomly choose 10, similar to the way you pick certain foods off of a buffet line, hence the term 'buffet line candidate.'

Really it's an ideal solution and a no-fail strategy. Your issues are my issues, provided they make it through the screening process described above, of course. Once we get those tackled and solved, who knows? Perhaps we'll go back to that issue-laden buffet line and pick some more problems to tackle.

My slogan will be just as simple -- "Fixing America one problem at a time!"

A-maze-ing Learning!

Ever tried to train a wild cat? Ever tried to train an entire pack of wild cats? Now, have you ever let an entire pack of wild cats loose on a farm and told them to behave? I have. It's called a field trip.

The pack of wild cats in question would be our first graders. We decided to set them loose on a local farm under the guise of an educational field trip.

On our way to the same field trip last year, one of our kids commented on the "giant dogs" we saw on on our way there.
"Those are actually goats," I said.
"Oh," he said and sat quietly a moment. "Mr. Haworth? What's a goat?"

My comment winner for this year goes to the student who told me in the corn maze "I'm only allergic to corn when its on the cob, Mr. Haworth."

Thank goodness there were no cobs in the corn bins full of corn he jumped and played in!

He told me a few of the other food items he's allergic to as well. Coincidentally, they were the same healthy foods I was allergic to when I was his age.

During the "school" portion of the trip, they showed us foods they grow like wheat. Wheat straw comes from wheat. So does wheat flour. What can we make with flour, she asked. One hand shot up and the girl attached yelled, "popcorn!"

I don't know that what we've taught the kids has stuck. But I do know what we SHOULD be teaching them.

Saving Children from Spiders

Anyone that really knows me knows that I am not a big fan of spiders. No matter how small or non-life threatening they are, I simply don't care for those spindly, evil-looking little critters.

I usually love this time of year when the weather cools down. However, this time of year also kind of sucks. Allow me to explain that a little.

I generally like it when the temperature drops and the weather cools down. That means cool, crisp air. That means cold, wintry nights. That also means the king and Spanish mackerel are running at the coast and THAT means good fishing and great eating! Ever had a fresh mackerel steak?

Anyway, the cold weather also equates to more spiders inside the house! Apparently they've got some intelligence if they're trying to come in out of the cold, right?

Well, on the morning in question, one large and particularly ugly black spider decided to come in out of the cold. I found him on the ceiling in the entrance to the cafeteria at the elementary school I work at. In other words, right above my head!

After an avid search, I was unable to find anything to reach the offending creature to eradicate him, or her, by the only method I know to deal with such things -- squish!

Regardless, I did find the custodian. The great thing about our custodians is that they know how to handle nearly any situation thrown at them. Before I could blink, that venom dripping, massive black spider was gone, the children were safe once again and I could breathe a little easier.

But that left one other little problem -- explaining myself to the custodian. I would have gotten it, I explained, if I could have reached it. I just didn't have...

What's Wrong With This World?

Who took the grapes out of my grape jelly? It has recently come to my attention, albeit through my wife, that grape jelly contains no actual grapes. She went on to tell me that it's really just grape flavored gelatin.

Now that's just crazy talk!

I immediately pulled my sticky jar of jelly from the fridge and glanced at the ingredients. No where on that jar does it list grapes as an ingredient for my jelly. My wife's response? Just a sad "I told you so" was all I got from her.

And, of course, you know what else that means. There are no apples in my apple jelly! Now that simply stinks!

Of course, this caused severe consternation for me. I began to wonder what else is missing out there. I set out on a quest to discover what else has gone AWOL in our daily lives.

I once saw a carpet that was NOT made from any fiber. The tag on the carpet boasted that in an earlier life, it was just a pile of plastic soda bottles. We have clothing made from soda bottles, too. I've seen ladies handbags made from all sorts of strange recycled products.

My Dad's deck looks like wood, but it isn't. It's made of the same synthetic material that was used to make my bird feeder. The deck, like my bird feeder, is supposed to last more than a lifetime. The salesman told me the feeder is guaranteed to never rot.

Now I know that most orange juice goes through a process where they actually take the orange out of the juice and add orange flavoring back to the "juice" later in the process.

We have a candy at the retail store I work at that is called Swedish Fish. Yes, they are quite yummy. No, they are not made in Sweden and, no, they don't contain fish. They are shaped like little fishes, though! And, in case you are wondering, they're produced in Canada.

The "wooden" desks at my school are not made of wood, though they're made to look like they are. My Mom's bacon is not made of real meat. My Ford is not made of all American parts.

Holy bacon splat, Batman! What's wrong with this world?