Tags: Books, Current events, dogs, family, holidays, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
Shopping is exhausting. My human’s wife is one of those who looks forward to the insanity know as “Black Friday.” In the past she’d get up early, spend the day after Thanksgiving battling competitive shoppers for the specials, get home, put up her feet, and thank the barons of commerce for the crumbs. AND … She’d be thankful that her ordeal by department store was done for another year.
Have you seen the ads on TV? There is no day, occasion, incident, or excuse to flimsy to put the word “black” in front of and use as a ploy to try to extract a few more coins from the beleaguered consumer. Even car dealers are going black – some for the whole month. We now have Black Thanksgiving Eve, Blacker Thanksgiving Morning, Kind-a-black Saturday, Black I-net Monday, and Dark-Gray-Turning-Black-Sunday. The magnetic strips are being worn off credit cards, wallets are being worn out, and both shoppers and shop-keepers patience is worn away.
I guess I should be thankful. At least it reduces the number of political ads on TV.
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Tags: Books, Christmas, dogs, family, holidays, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Thanksgiving, Writing
Thank You! Thank You!
A couple of you reminded the Geezer, when he spoke at the Copperfish last night, that I needed my turn at the computer. He’s promised to be more considerate and let me have my paws on the keyboard more frequently.
The Geezer had a most successful trek to the Copperfish. He met lots of folks, both fans and prospective new ones, I’m sure he wowed them with his bullshit, had a great gab session, and (oh, yes) sold and signed a bunch of books.
Another thank you is in order. That’s to the 20,000 plus visitors who have read my blog. Woof, woof. I reached the milestone a few days ago. It’s humbling to this dog and I’ll do my best to continue to make your visits here worth your time.
T’is the season, or at least, it’s close to it. The Geezer will be posting one (or more) of his Christmas Stories on his blog and I’ll be doing the same on this one. Look for them to start right after Thanksgiving.
Finally: Woof-Arf Grrr-Arf-Woof. Translated into Humanese that’s ………………………. HAPPY THANKSGIVING.
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Tags: Books, Cape Coral, dogs, Events, Florida, Humor, life, Port Charlotte, publishing, Punta Gorda, Reading, Writing
The Geezer is in the middle of a stretch where he is busier than a one armed paper hanger! It means he’s gone a lot and the lap top goes with him. I had a chance to get my paws on it for a few minutes this morning, so I took this opportunity to communicate to all of you. You can help me. He’ll be speaking at The Copperfish Bookstore in Punta Gorda, Florida, Tuesday afternoon, November 24, at 6:00 PM. Go see him (the Geezer is also known as DL Havlin) and tell him to let me get a chance to spend some time on line. You might want to stay and hear him talk. He’ll be speaking about his newest novel, Bully Route Home. If you like history delivered in an entertaining style he’s worth seeing. His book, Bully Route Home deals with bullying and race relations and he calls it, “The past’s portrait of today’s problems.”
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Tags: Books, dogs, family, fiction, funny stories, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
If a human tells you the moon is made of cheese, don’t argue, ask them to cut you a slice.
If a human tries to put stupid looking clothing on you, tell them, “No, not until I see you try it on first.”
If a human feeds you lots of table scraps including beans, broccoli, cauliflower, tacos, and radishes, get even with them by staying close and keeping your rear end pointed at them until your problem passes.
If a human tells you “this hurts me as much as you,” bite them and ask the same question.
If a human tells you you’re the smartest animal in the world, remember she or he is probably selling Brooklyn Bridges as a two for one special.
If a human politician promises you the canine right to vote, a chicken in every pot, sex with your favorite movie star, free phones, free medical care, free housing, 360 days on sunshine each year, and to execute all dog-catchers, remember she or he’s already promised everybody else something similar. (E.g. – Dog-catchers are promised all dogs will be executed) Quick! Bury them in the backyard before they do the same to you!
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Tags: Books, conservative, dogs, Election, fiction, Humor, life, News, Politics, publishing, Reading, Writing
Goodness! It’s October 12, 2015! If I’ve calculated correctly, that’s 394 more days until the next presidential election. I don’t know if me and my humans will maintain our sanity if we have to be subjected to the insanity spewing from TV, Mags, Papers, and the I-net. Maybe it’s a new strategy: If the media bombards us with enough manure, we’ll lose interest and elect another loser of their choice. Have you seen some of the BS they’re putting out? Some of the best fantasy writers of our time are masquerading as journalists. I can’t help but think of the old cliche “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” when I hear these idiots scream at each other. They twist the truth like Superman makes pretzels out of steel bars. Election fatigue is here with a year to go.
When it gets here … Whoever gets elected … Please start by draining the great dismal swamp called Washington. My human says if we can get somebody, anybody, elected from outside corruption central, there’s a chance for the country to make it. As he points out, when the swamp dries, the bureaucrats and elected officials will be of some use. The skins from the rats and reptiles inhabiting the place now can be converted into something more usable like shoes, purses, fuzzy slippers, and fur-lined toilets.
The picture above is a reminder to be careful that when all those promising politicos tell you, “I’d like to invite you for lunch,” be sure you aren’t the main course.
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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: birding, Birds, Books, dogs, family, Humor, life, nature, publishing, Reading, wildlife, Writing
Waiting! Waiting! Waiting! I wonder how much time I spend doing that. I wait for my humans to feed me. I wait for them to walk me. I wait on the armadillo to come out of his hole so we can play. I wait on the Geezer to get my pull-toy so we can play tug-of-war. I wait for Mrs. G to stop petting Oreo so I can monopolize her attention. It seems like most of my life is spent in the sheer boredom of waiting.
Normally, I’d say humans have little understanding of the suffering we canines endure, but in this instance … this one instance … the Geezer understands. Right now he’s waiting. Waiting on his new book Bully Route Home to get into the stores. Waiting for the change his publisher is making in distributors to settle out. Waiting for response from agents on two of his manuscripts. Waiting for final publishing editorial approval on another. Waiting! Waiting! Waiting!
I pass my waiting time on a carefully planned and regimented schedule. Seventy-two percent is spent sleeping on one of my two large pillows. Another 12% is spent wimpering at my humans feet. It makes them feel guilty … the result … I get treats. Ten percent goes to my exercise program. That consists of rolling on my back, stretching when I get out of bed, and scratching imaginary fleas (don’t have any, but one must keep their techniques sharp). The rest is used to do what a girl’s got to do.
The Geezer simply spends his waiting time writing … and writing … and writing. Which, you already guessed, creates more waiting time. Humans, they learn slow or not at all.
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Tags: Books, dogs, editors, family, fiction, funny stories, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
Here are some of my doggie definitions … maybe I should call them daffynitions.
Intellectual – A person who occasionally knows more than most, but most of the time just pretend they do.
Restroom – A poorly named place that most human are in a hurry to get in, to get done, and to get out of — It should be called a Rushroom.
Legacy – Lies told to perpetuate the myth of an incompetent person’s competency.
Fidelity (definition #1) – State of mind said to exist in the minds of admirers of the former Cuban dictator. Often referred to by others as people who have been “fideled” or something starting with the same letter.
Fidelity (definition #2) – A monogamous, favorable, but difficult human condition to maintain … however, seemingly impossible in Hollywood.
Fidelity (definition #3) – An affliction of violinists who play country music.
Trade-in – A course of action taken by wealthy women and men who become bored with their cars and spouses.
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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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