Tags: Books, Current events, dogs, Election, fiction, Humor, life, Media, publishing, Reading, Writing
There was a meeting of the Pine Island Canine Chowder and Ham Bone Marching Society this morning. Since there wasn’t much doggie business to discuss, we looked for other topics. We thought about discussing monkey business, but none of us knew any monkeys or what’s important to them, so we decided we shouldn’t discuss that. However, Sparkle, the Irish Setter, suggested that our lack of monkey expertise shouldn’t deter us from discussing simian issues. She said, “After all, look at human politicians. They talk about everything and know practically nothing.” Accepting that as a fact was the first unanimous show of paws I can remember at one of our meetings.
Peter the pointer pointed out that, “All you have to do is to look at the debate that was on TV last night. The thing you learned most was how all the humans didn’t like each other or this one human. That’s what they discussed, mostly. So … they really discussed nothing.” We snickered. Humans are a low life form.
The Pine Island Canine Chowder and Ham Bone Marching Society then discussed that there was nothing to discuss, and, rather than degrade ourselves to human levels, we adjourned the meeting.
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Tags: Books, dogs, Entertainment, Humor, life, Media, News, publishing, Reading, Writing
I have been subjected to cruel and unusual punishment! The Geezer has gone to far this time. My humans have company so the doors that are normally open to the bedrooms … are closed. The circular staircases to the upstairs make me dizzy so escape by going up is impossible. Escape you say? Escape from what? Torture! I’ve been relegated to staying in the living room and subjected to mistreatment by television. Aaaahhhhh!! I can’t get away from it. Humans have to be in the lowest intelligence percentile of all life forms on planet Earth; they actually enjoy watching TV. The people staying with the Geezer and Mrs. G are addicted to the tube. If it isn’t turned on, they’re turned off.
TV is just plain pathetic. Several weeks ago I talked about the advertisements that appear between what is supposed to be entertainment, or news, all of which should be placed in the visual trashcan. Remember my comments on the six is greater than one revelation? That rates a Gomer Pyle reaction: Surprise! Surprise! Surprise! There are ads that bring into question if the human species actually has a brain. I have my doubts. There isn’t any doubt about the Madison Avenue humans that dream up these brain farts.
Have you seen the one about the free range chicken? That rascal gets around. From the barnyard to hopping freight cars, everyone in the ad extols the chicken’s masculine free spirit. They even talk about how “he” keeps sending pictures back to the home folks. The problem – the super hero chicken they filmed isn’t a rooster, she’s a hen. Evidently, those smart folks in Manhattan don’t realize there are sexual differences in chickens that the public can discern. Maybe they were taught by that MIT professor that believes American humans are really dumb. Maybe the professor was right.
Then there are the ads for new films. I’ll describe one. There’s a dark background, men with guns are shooting each other, there are several huge explosions, some woman is shown taking her top off, one of the characters delivers inciting, complex dialogue, “Get down!” (which exhausts the actor’s vocabulary), a decaying corpse comes to life in a zombie state, and finally there’s the absolutely, positively, indispensable speeding vehicle that does a triple flip in the pike position. I said one ad, but that covers 80% of film trailers.
How about the birdies looking for a new home. That’s the one where a flock heads one way, lands at a place where the phones “buffer,” their little bird brains get upset, the birds do a reverse course, and an announcer proudly proclaims these birds returned for three hundred bucks and getting their old phone network back. What he doesn’t tell you is there was no food where they landed. None. Nada. Zilch. Geese aren’t that dumb. They’d be looking for a corn field or rice paddy. They put down on flat barren tundra. Mama goose didn’t raise a dumb gaggle. They needed the $300 to go to McDonald’s. Oh yes, the announcer keeps saying “birds.” Evidently he things a goose is something you do with your thumb.
The Geezer is showing me some compassion, however. He’s promised to take me outside, turn on the hose and drench me. I sure can use it. The people upstairs have been watching news shows all day with a continuous mud slide of politics spewing from the screen. It makes one feel dirty, filthy, like one has been dipped into a two hundred year old outhouse. A bath, a bath, my country for a bath. I guess I’ll forgive him if he throws in a hamburger for supper tonight.
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Tags: Books, Current events, dogs, family, Humor, life, Media, publishing, Reading, Writing
6 is > than 1
Anybody know how much a thirty second spot costs on national TV? I know they’re expensive even if they aren’t shown at the same time as the super bowl. Just a guess, but it’s probably at least in six figures. I’m sure some unbelievably smart human devises these brief messages composed to indelibly etch a message on the viewers mind. But really? Are humans that stupid?
A couple of examples should suffice. Let’s start with the one that intends to enlighten it’s human audience about a product you stick up your nostrils. It’s supposed to do wonders for those with nose problems. It has six active ingredients, though the ad doesn’t spend much time saying what they are or what they do. What message does this bit of TV magic leave you with? My goodness – 6 is greater than 1! What a revelation! I assume the Madison Avenue geniuses fashioning this ad believe the majority of humans hunkering in front of their TV’s never made the third grade. Maybe they thought that college professors are teaching elementary schools and those students are learning nothing just like those being taught in universities. Whatever IQ level you assign canines, we know six is greater than one. Who wouldn’t want six treats instead of just uno.
Then there is an ad for something – I think it’s for a car, but the ad missed its mark with me. Maybe with you. If you’ve seen it, can you tell me who the manufacturer is? It’s about a bunch of humans cringing in an office building afraid of drones hovering outside. One human gives advice and, of course, everybody does just the opposite. They run – the drones attack – chaos – but why? The Department of Justice isn’t allowed to use drones to attack us like they said they wanted to, or so they claim they won’t. The superior smart ass in the ad rides off into the sunset as his car’s technology, the car whose name I can’t remember, outsmarts the drones’ technology.
And they pay humans to invent and produce those ads? It’s a wonder the low intellect species has survived this long. But, you can’t cheat evolution. Watch TV news – the way things are going, humans will be extinct in no time.
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Tags: ABC, Books, CBS, CNN, dogs, Election, Fox News, Humor, life, Media, NBC, Politics, publishing, Reading, Writing
Didn’t we just go through the modern version of the Spanish Inquisition? An election? The ballots haven’t had a chance to mold and the news media is consumed by 2016. Humans should revolt and burn down the TV news networks and newspapers and give us all a rest. The idiots incorrectly labeled “journalists” remind me of Shakespeare’s witches in MacBeth … huddling around the caldron chanting “Double, Double, Toil and Trouble, Parties Burn and Nonsense Bubble.” Instead of the caldron, their instruments of evil are microphones, word-processors, and polls.
Like their Shakespearean counter-parts they’re up to no good, trying to keep the populace angry, divided, and misinformed. Half the population wants to cut the other half’s throats and all are ready to burn Washington. (That might not be a bad idea if all the politicians and bureaucrats are there at the time it’s made into ashes.)
The information these news folks put out sounds as though it was gathered at a sixth grade sleep-over. It sometimes is a series: one side dares the other, the other side double-dares the first, and the first side double-dog-dares the second, and so on. Think … the tongue-froze-to-flagpole scene in the “Christmas Story.” Of course those actors were more mature. But, remember, we’re talking about humans.
Then there are the polls. You know, those things the media says measure your thoughts, but are designed to shape them instead. They try to make one candidate inevitable and one mission impossible. Well, I’ve decided to give my readers a chance to pick animal competitors for the 2016 Presidency against two of the front-running human candidates. Take the poll and encourage others to do so. I’ll send the results to the TV networks.
Tags: Books, dogs, family, Humor, life, Media, News, publishing, Reading, Writing
The Internet and TV are alive with a controversy. Is being a puppy a crime? Does it matter where you come from? It seems that featuring a puppy in a Go-Daddy commercial that doesn’t strictly conform to a portion of the public’s belief system, is causing all kinds of consternation. I can identify with the star of the commercial; I looked a lot like ’em when I was that age. See my picture above? The poor pup’s debut in the Super Bowl ad is cancelled!
The last ten seconds of the ad were … ah … let’s not call it stupid, but I can’t find a better synonym right now. Who is the advertising agency appealing to, the Marquis De Sade? Those humans on Madison Avenue are supposed to be geniuses. Right? I guess if your hat size and IQ are within a few points they qualify.
With that said, how can a commercial get some folks’ panties wadded up so tight? (Glad I’m canine and don’t wear them.) I came from a breeder. They’re not all evil like the tone of much of the doggie poop I see on the I-net would have you believe. My breeder slept on the floor with my brothers, sisters, and mommy to get us used to living with humans, insisted on interviewing prospective families, and helped match our traits to the house we’d soon call our own.
Think of the poor puppy in the commercial. A career that could rival Lassie’s or Rin Tin Tin’s has been sidelined. The dangers that puppy faced: trains, no planes, but automobiles. Neither rain or sore paws could dampen her or his acting effort. Leave it to snarky narrow-viewed humans to louse things up. Oh well, you expect it from the species.
Tags: Books, Current events, dogs, Election, Humor, life, Media, Politics, publishing, Reading
It’s another overcast day and the weather guesser is predicting more rain. And, it’s Monday. Rain’s not a bad thing, neither is Monday, but what happens because of the combination … is. My humans turn on TV much earlier than usual. Instead of a few hours in the evening, I’m tortured by having to listen to a full day’s coverage of tube tripe. Tripe? Yes, it’s an election year and the election season. At least, I don’t have to watch it. I can go a couple of rooms away and avoid that, but the sound follows me like stink on a garbage truck. It wouldn’t be terrible if there weren’t all those negative political ads. If the tone of this post sounds a little cynical, disgusted, and a bit pissed, I missed my intent. I wanted it to sound a very, very cynical, disgusted, and very pissed. American politics are as low as a whale turd sitting in the Mariana’s trench at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. I’ve had enough.
I tired of political pundits and advertisements that tell me how Joan or John Doe kissed a frog’s ass three years ago. Or that they stood on stage with Conan the Barbarian. Or they went shopping in the same Macy’s as Jack the Ripper. The political pundits are particularly loathsome. Ever notice how their mouths all look like a canine rectum with diarrhea?
It would seem humans could do better casting their ballots for someone who is for something, not simply against the other guy. Since most candidates and their idiot supporting organizations won’t produce an ad or commentary with specifics about what they’re going to do to improve the situation, a vote for me seems logical. I’m going to run for something … anything. At least, I can name ten things I’d support and try to achieve if elected to office. I bet you can’t make the same comment about most human politicians.
My “plank” is –
1. All cars are to be equipped with sensors to activate an automatic braking device if the pope, Billy Graham, or a canine is sensed within fifty yards. The sensor also causes acceleration and aims at all political consultants.
2. Cease the war on dogs. I’m not sure what that means, but I’m for it anyway. That is, unless it means male dogs should have nothing to do with female dogs. I’m not for that. Is that what women want? Do they want men to have nothing to do with them? That would be great contraception.
3. I’d pass equal opportunity laws for canines. For example, the same number of dog movies should be produced as the number of flics made starring humans. Bring back Lassie and Rin Tin Tin. Hell, we already feature complete nudity.
4. All the negative ads about politicians should face a sniff test before airing on TV or Radio. If specific people, places, and collaborating evidence isn’t provided to support a claim, and any possible ulterior motive isn’t exposed, the media should be forced to broadcast the following disclaimer: “No irrefutable proof was provided that the claims in this ad are accurate. The viewer should consider everything in it as bullshit.” That would reduce all our suffering, because there would hardly be any “vote for your local pond scum” ads left.
5. Dogs will have the right to vote. They know as much about the Constitution as most people do. More than some.
6. All dog owners will receive a payment from the IRS of $6000. That money is to all be spent on the dog’s pleasure or returned to the Lois Lerner Defense and Corruption Fund.
7. All “Keep off the grass” signs are to have the phrase “Except dogs” added to them.
8. I’d pass a law that the US Attorney General would be an elected official (without party affiliation) nominated from the prison system. That way we’d get someone who was less of a criminal than the AGs who have served the last two administrations. They’d probably know a lot more law.
9. The passage of the “Anti-hypocrite law.” Part one is that before a person/canine/feline/ etc. screams about, and tries to force others to give up their bones, money, dog bed, property, catnip, etc., so that everyone’s the same – they have to send all their earnings over the average American’s salary and send their property holdings over the average US citizen’s to the Government Corruption Center for redistribution. That’s your yacht Leo. And your villa in Italy George. And your royalty check Babs. Part two is that all those folks who claim everybody has an equal chance yet violate the antitrust laws, engage in insider trading, operate hedge funds, etc. are forced to abide by the law. Our Attorney General doesn’t seem to know what those laws are for. That’s you Mitt. And you Rupert and Warren. And all of Wall Street.
10. Most importantly, I promise to put a two-pound porterhouse in every dog bowl every day. Medium rare with light garlic and sautéed with buttered wine-sauce. I really questioned adding this, but what the hell, everyone else is buying votes.
That’s what I’m for. Vote for Sandy. Write me in. I don’t belong to a party, don’t know any lobbyists, haven’t taken a cent of campaign contribution, and have no preconceived ideas about foreign countries. Oh, I don’t have a penis. That seems to be the most important qualification now-days. That proves I’ll make a great – whatever.
PS. In regard to number ten in my platform listed above. I’m searching for Angus and Hereford volunteers.
Tags: conservative, liberal, life, Media, Politics
There are a few things that come to mind, triggered by current events, that I asked the Geezer to comment on. Some of the things are questions I don’t like to ask, hate in fact, however, things have gotten ridiculous. The Q and A follows:
1. Q…..”What can you humans do about the terrible tornadoes that kill so many of you and destroy so much property?” A…..(after a lengthy hesitation) “Not much, if you choose to live in a spot that is subject to natural calamities. It’s a risk you have to be willing to take. The brave people in Oklahoma and other places in the tornado belt have made that choice. We have in Florida where hurricanes pose a similar threat. There are earthquakes in California, super storms like Sandy, no offense old girl, in the Northeast, floods in Illinois and the whole Midwest. If one lives where tornadoes are bad and frequent, one must accept the risk or build their homes underground.”
2. Q…..”When a vicious dog from a strange neighborhood tries come into our community and wants kill and beat up on us, we form a pack and keep them out. Seems to me terrorists do the same thing. Why don’t humans keep them out?” A…..(no hesitation) “Because dogs have better sense than bureaucrats and politicians.”
3. Q…..”After listening to folks like Chris Mathews, Bill O’Reilly, Lois Lerner, Dick Shulman, John Boehner, Heinrich, sorry I mean Eric Holder, and Barack Obama, do any of the media folks, bureaucrats, and politicians have anything in common?” A…..(after a moment of thought) “Yes, they do. In fact, four things. Contempt for the intelligence of the people they claim to represent. Unfettered, unlimited arrogance that allows them to be dismissive and to disregard others. They’re unmitigated liars with no consciences. And in most cases you cited, they’re perfectly willing to try to impose their ideals on others without thought to law or the constitution. That’s their commonality, but like Satchel Paige said, A man can’t help being born average, but he don’t have to be common.”
4. Q…..”After hearing about all the government spying and coersion, aren’t you concerned about the IRS or the Attorney General’s office going after you?” A…..”No. the American people and military will put up with just so much before the advocates of the totalitarian state end up in an honest court, are tried and have their necks stretched.
Tags: Books, Congress, dogs, Humor, life, Media, Politics, publishing, Reading, Writing
The Geezer and I were watching TV this morning. As usual, the Geezer was tuned to the news in the off chance that someone in government…or in major corporations… or even within the media, did something to give us a little faith things would be alright.
The first three items covered were:
- High-ranking bank officials were reengaging in the same lending practices (making housing loans to those who couldn’t afford it) that destroyed the country’s economy. You know, those folks that are “too big to fail.” Humans don’t seem to understand that when you reward bad behavior with a bailout or something similar it encourages more of the same. Every mommy dog I know has better sense than to let her pups get away with manure like that.
- Those paragons of virtue, Congress and the President, quietly gutted the insider trader law that was passed a year ago (before the election). You know, the one that kept them from benefiting from having government information that would effect future fortunes of a stock. Remember, the one our President said, “Was overdue” and that, “Congress should be playing by the same rules as any other citizen.” Well, we have bipartisanship at last – Both parties passed and the President signed the bill that effectively repealed the law. They sneaked it through quietly, notice that?
- The Geezer changed channels trying to lessen his depression. A media type was explaining why it was fine to allow government officials to eavesdrop on innocent private citizens email without the protection the constitution provides, while it wasn’t okay for law enforcement to continue to question a guilty terrorist to protect the rest of us. And they say dogs are dumb. We are consistent…we always bark at the postman.
The Geezer sadly shook his head, turned off the TV, and turned on the stereo. He mumbled, “I’d say the country is going to the dogs, but I know they’d do a better job running it than the idiots of BOTH parties who run it today.” I agree him…that’s true.
I remembered a bit of wisdom from one of the Geezer’s own books and I repeated it to him.
“It’s no coincidence that big-shot and big-shit are almost spelled the same.”
Tags: Books, dogs, Humor, life, Media, publishing, Reading, Writing
Sitting on the couch and contemplating life is one of those things I do when there is absolutely, positively nothing else to do. Since canines live orderly, logical lives, I generally spend little time evaluating our doggie development. When I want something complex to ponder, I turn my attention to the human species. Posing a question and formulating an answer is my favorite way of analyzing their progress, or more accurately stated, lack of. Here are a few questions I’ve postulated and answers I’ve formulated.
Question: Why do humans invent machines to save them physical effort only to invent machines that require physical effort? They invented automobiles, dish washers, electric toothbrushes, self-propelled riding lawn mowers, etc., etc., etc. so they don’t have to sweat and strain. Then, in the time they save and with the effort they avoid by using these machines, they invent other machines like exercise bikes, weight sets, treadmills, etc., etc., etc. so they can sweat and strain. Makes sense to them, but none to we canines. I asked my human, the Geezer about this phenomenon, and his answer…”We humans start to gain weight because we eat too much and don’t get enough exercise to keep the weight off.” I didn’t have the heart to point out the obvious solution, “Eat less.” Human’s don’t have a sense of cause and effect.
Question: Why do humans buy something then never use or eat it because they’re afraid they’ll damage or consume the item? One of my human’s friend’s car is a good example. He seldom drives it, waxes it until I’m sure the paint will come off and screams if his wife requests the keys. The Geezer says it’s because the man has a lot of money invested in the darned thing. He said his friend had an older car he “clunked” around in. I asked, “Gee Geezer, why spend lots of money on something you aren’t going to use much and just a little on something you’re going to use all the time?” He got that blank look humans get when they do something they have no explanation for. He mumbled, “You wouldn’t understand.” That’s their answer when they have absolutely no earthly idea how to answer a question.
One more — Question: Why do humans insist people not lie to them on little things and let people tell whoppers when something important is the topic? The other day I took a paper napkin off the coffee table and started to chew on it. It was a used napkin that would be thrown out anyway. About the time I was deciding how to dispose of the darned thing, the Geezer surprised me, asking, “Sandy, do you have something in your mouth?”
“Nawww,” I answered, “nudthins ‘n maa moousth.” I thought about swallowing the darned thing, but knew it would come back up later.
“Don’t lie to me, girl!” He was visibly upset.
That seemed very unfair. He’d just delivered a sermon about how the press and politicians were lying about the killing of an ambassador, but didn’t seem half as mad. When I asked him why he was more upset with me than with those clowns on TV he said,”I expect them to lie. They do it all the time.”
Tags: animal tales, Books, Cooking, dogs, food, Fox & Friends, funny stories, Humor, life, Media, publishing, Reading, Writing
“You want to ride along, Sandy? We’re going to run a few errands.” The Geezer should have known better than to ask that! Does the economy stink? Do politicians lie? The answer isn’t yes, it’s HELL YES!!!!
Anytime I get the opportunity to load into the truck, I’m ready. Nothing but good things happen when I’m navigating for the Geezer. If he takes me without bringing Mrs. G. along, I get to ride shotgun. For you uninitiated in auto slang, that’s front seat, passenger side, window. Folks wave to me and I bark back. It’s great fun. I’m sure they don’t mistake me for Mrs. G. She’s good-looking as far as human females go, but pales in comparison to my magnificent beauty. When pictures aren’t available, I feel I must be more totally honest, than modest.
Unfortunately, I was relegated to the back seat today. The term for being exiled back there is flying tail-gunner. Mrs. G. went. That’s not all bad because the Geezer puts the back seats down giving me more space to move around. I still can navigate by sticking my head in between the front seats. Another perk connected with riding in the back is that— if I rest my head on Mrs. G’s shoulder, she’ll continue to rub behind my ears until I fall asleep, or she does. Neither one of us stay awake on long rides, but she has a tendency to snore by the time the car backs out of the driveway.
The first place we went today, was the bank. I like the smell of money that’s there and the ladies that work inside. I have them trained really well. As soon as we pull up to the drive through, I stick my head out the driver’s side window. The Geezer always opens it for me as we approach. My command to the girls is two sharp “Ruffs.” They immediately fetch me at least three treats. If I want more, I simply sit up in the back seat and swing my front paws up like I’m conducting a band. That’s good for at least two more….. Well, there is one lady who never responds. Some humans just aren’t trainable. You know the deplorable mental capabilities of many of that species. That’s why the old cliché is about horse sense, not human sense. And, heavens, equines aren’t that bright.
The next stop was to get gas. Normally that’s boring. Not so today. Edgar and Edna, two friends and former neighborhood canines were sitting in the bed of a pickup truck that was stopped on the other side of the gas pump. Gosh its great to see old friends. It was one big gab session. My humans and their humans were laughing and talking as I greeted my old buddies. “How do you two like your new digs?” I asked.
“They’re okay,” Edgar said, in a typically reserved English Setter manner.
“Oh they’re wonderful! Magnificent! Just simply superb!” You have to understand Edna is very social conscious. Her lineage was “accidental” that being part Cocker and part Poodle. What does that make her, a Cockepoodle? Crockapoodle would be more accurate. She’s the queen of hyperbole.
“Now Edna, don’t embellish. They’re just nice.” Edgar scratched a flea under his chin. “See, we still have those rascals.”
“Yes, but we have a three car garage, a garbage disposal in two sinks, four bathrooms, and a swimming pool.” Edna was trying to impress.
“That is cool,” I said, “Anything else you have at your new place you didn’t have in the old neighborhood?”
Edgar studied for a few seconds before saying, “Roaches.”
Some folks are born to convert highs into lows.
Our last stop was one of my very most favorite places. I call it the Parking Zoo. The Geezer calls it the mall parking lot. There’s no better place to do some human watching, and there’s nothing more interesting to do when we take one of our rides. We parked and Mrs. G. left the car. I slid between the front seat backrests and took her seat, which was still warm as I plopped my butt down.
The Geezer asked, “Sandy, were you invited?’
I gave him my, Get real, peon, look.
“Okay, okay. But, get back in the rear quickly when Mrs. G returns.”
“Sure, sure, quick as a bunny.”
“Fine, fine,” he said. The old boy doesn’t know sarcasm unless you hold up a sign. He put the windows down half way. That lets me see out without having to look through finger and nose prints. “That far enough?” he asked.
“That’ll do,” I answered.
About that time the first specimen strolled up the pavement in front of the car. It was a man from the human sub-species, concedius-arrogantus. He had a bright green golf shirt on that had a stripe across the shoulders the Geezer called mauve when I asking him. He had enough grease on his hair to lubricate the skids used to move all the stones that made the pyramid at Giza. The man looked around, looking for someone, looking at him. His head was held up and back, his facial expression was like that of a human smelling a full discharge of flatulence. You know, the Bill O’Reilly type.
The next sighting was a full parade. It was a Reproductus-prolifitera. The lady in question led her brood of eight stair-step girls toward the stores, their butt cheeks swaying in time with mama’s. All wore blonde pony tails that swung to the opposite side their from where their rears rotated. It was a precision drill team in training. I mentioned to the Geezer, “That prolifitera is attractive. And, she has a cute rear.”
“That’s why she has those eight ducklings following her tail,” the Geezer editorialized in a knowing manner.
About that time, a man with a pot gut, dirty shorts, and a tee-shirt that didn’t make it down over his naval, (his belly button pushed out like a flag) came from the opposite way the parade was going. His legs looked like pipe stems supporting a basketball. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. Or taken a bath. Or used deodorant. Or scrubbed his teeth. Hey, I can’t help it that my nose is sharp. The “T” had “Every woman’s dream,” printed across the front. I scoffed, “See what’s on that tee, Geezer? I know what the dream is. Nightmare on Elm Street.” I recognized his genus as Grossis-slobovian. Both the Geezer and I exclaimed together, “He looks just like Michael Moore!”
I was watching the slobovian get into his car, when the Geezer whistled. “Get a load of this one!” I turned my head and my jaw dropped, dog slobber decorating the front seat. “Is it?” I asked.
“Yes it is, Sandy!”
“You see them, but not so…developed.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “A real Fattass-humongu-elephatanti,” I added in reverence.
“No, but you’re close.” The Geezer looked me square in the pupils.” That’s a genuine, Fattass-humongu-whalus.”
As the specimen approached, the sun seemed blotted out by its shadow and vibrations from impact tremors made the car creak. I swear that’s true. “Is it male or female?” I asked in fear and awe at the same time.
“Sandy, I have no idea.” He studied the hulk filling the roadway aisle in front of us. “Well, it could…but, then…I think…then again…” The Geezer repeated in awe, “I have no idea.”
There was a tapping on the passenger side window that snapped our heads around and returned us from fantasy land.
“Who wants a hot dog?” Mrs. G. asked. The Geezer always says that woman can send you right to heaven.