Since I’ve been laid up, there hasn’t been a whole lot to do other than to make Janie angry by threatening to clean out her nightstand drawer where she hoards things like medication, nuts and writing implements.  I dug around in there and found our Flip camcorder and we spent several minutes Thursday night watching old videos of Gus when he was just a tiny guy, way back before we had to chase him down the hall to extract that giant piece of cat shit from his mouth.  Here’s one …

Well, God damn.  This is going to be one of those posts where I tell you that something horrible happened and I lost everything I had written about how I had my tonsils out a few weeks prior to Y2K and at the same time some dudes were jack-hammering in my apartment and I was high on liquid vicodin just to sleep through the mess of it all.  It wasn’t very interesting, really…it was just a way to tell you that here I am, in my home, with a sore …

Gussy loves the beach ball we bought him last weekend. He chases it around the house, pounces on it and when it gets stuck in a corner, bites at it until he gets a good grip and carries it back into the living room where it deflates. This beach ball now has roughly 14 duct tape patches.

Gus had a good walk today. Now when he sees other dogs he doesn’t – GUS DON’T EAT POOP! – he doesn’t freak out about wanting to see them. He’s trying to eat cat poop. Anyway, he wants to see them, but if they aren’t interested or something he just goes on his way.
Right.
What?
Nothing.
What? What’s wrong. He’s fine!
I’m sure he’s fine. I just think he’s lost some of his zest for life.
He hasn’t lost his zest for life at all! He’s right here, …

Several times a day I like to tell Janie that she’s being watched.  Because she is.
About two weeks ago we went to a little store in Seattle called Archie McPhee and before I had to make a mad dash out of there because something horrible was happening to my bottom system, I purchased several small plastic figures and a pack of 7 fake mustaches (one for every day of the week!).
First I tried wearing the mustaches and then smooching on my lady until it freaked her out so much that …

I pulled an extra comforter out of the linen closet last night and as I was lying underneath it on the living room floor, playing with Gus, I saw a small spider crawl away from me.  Logically, I assumed it had been on the blanket and that it was a baby and so I screamed frantically for my wife with the severe phobia of spiders, to come and kill it while I held Gus back like it was a grenade.
It didn’t take long for paranoia to set in and I …

Some people are born with confidence and some people aren’t. I have seen people who have ridiculously high self-esteem and I sometimes wonder: From where do you come with your fancy self-love and positive attitude? Because when I popped out, all those years ago, I came only with a head full of hair and a 40-piece set of emotional baggage. Yes, you go ahead and try to picture my mother giving birth to a matching set of luggage, but nothing good will come of it. Nothing. Good.
For …

If you could be an entertainer of some sort, like a vocal entertainer – pop, rock, R&B -  which would you choose?
I wouldn’t want to be a singer.
You wouldn’t?  Well, maybe you should be a rapper.
You think so?
You could be all, “Yo yo yo!”
Is that how you would rap? “Yo yo yo?”
Yeah.
Okay, right.  Well, maybe I would be a dancer.
Like a hip hop dancer?
Yeah.
You could be like K-Fed, you know, pop and lock…
Do you even know what that means?
No, I do not.