Gnawing on It

I will try to make this as smooth a transition, as possible.  Course, I say that, but when traveling with two, four-legged, friends, the opposite is typically the case.  The getting into the car, packing up the dogs, bringing treats, a leash, etc.  If by chance a leash or two, is forgotten?  A belt is always worn that can double as a ‘in case of emergency’ tether.

Pretty much, where I go, the dogs go.  Unless extreme weather gives the finger to keeping dogs in too hot a car.  Or, meteorologists imply that the current not habitable cold temperatures would not be good for chasing the great outdoors.

Other than the above mentioned, bad form temperature intensities, my friends are with me always!

When we evolve from Home Sweet, Home to New Hampshire’s vast rural nation?  It can be quite an undertaking.  As many writers do, I have an imagination that could be deemed a lethal weapon.  And, of a restless nature, my need to get up an go, can be almost as frightening.

Hour upon weary hour with Bogie and Mattie; I have developed their character analysis.  But with a twist.  Who were these lovely creatures in a former life?

Mattie, the hound mix, is no less than an eloquent expression of canine grace.  Having been abused before I met her. She has developed an edge.  Pretty simple stuff…She does not like; unspayed female dogs, over bearing male dogs, loud noises, quick movements, her little brother (Bogie) on occasion.

She is a Georgia Peach on steroids mixed with the aloofness of a Wallflower and lightly salted with all the athleticism of her great ancestors.  She is serious as shit!  No comedy!  No jokes!  Just cut to the chase and show her some love.

Bogie, a Beabull!  Is an anomaly!  Part beagle, he insists that he can hold his own out in the great north woods.  Part bulldog, he cannot hold his own.  And, is what many would call, delusional, in thinking he was ‘all that and a bag of chips!’

I refer, on exceptionally long trips, to Mattie as, Big Pat!

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Along the same lines of road monotony…Bogie is referred to as, Little Dot!

Big Pat and Little Dot were/are members of a backwoods bowling team.  They are the only ones on the team.  No one else feels comfortable playing with them.

Big Pat, in my fantastical mind, wears a polyester shit with an emblem.  The emblem displays bowling pins falling here and there.  Underneath the neon thread?  Her name: Big Pat.

Big Pat does not have a last name!  She listens to such music as; Black Sabbath, Joan Jett and when feeling soft inside…Led Zepplin.

Big Pat does not really like Little Dot.  She does for the first five minutes they are in the lanes.  After that, with the chaos and comedy, Big Pat pops a Pabst Blue Ribbon.  She is often spoken to about bringing open containers into ‘Your Balls in the Way Bowl-a-rama.’  Usually, the owners back off after Big Pat admonishes a switch blade.  And/or, worse case scenario, Big Pat will threaten to expose her left breast.

Unbelievable, but true, Big Pat is tough as nails and a beauty!

Little Dot had done the comedy circuit at Salisbury Beach.  She even branched out to Revere Beach.  And, Chinatown in Boston.  Her career never took off after the ‘incident.’

Little Dot had been spotted by Boston PD…peeing two miles from a playground.  The arrest would certainly have done her stand-up career…in.  She took a plea agreement.  So, now besides, bowling with Big Pat.  Little Dot volunteers at the Home for Wayward Aspiring Comics.

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She currently is in charge of the Bingo games on Wednesday afternoons.  Happy with the gig.  Little Dot has had the pleasure of meeting such greats as; David Spade, Pee Wee Herman and Jackie Gleason’s son.

Little Dot is in actuality, rather round.  Most of her stand-up routine consists of physical jokes.  Walking and falling.  Talking and chewing gum.  And, on rare moments, hurling her Humpty Dumpty frame…into the crowd.

Little Dot had been raised in an orphanage north of Boston.  Unfortunately, they stacked the beds from floor to ceiling.  Last or…first, one on the totem-pole?  Little Dot got the bottom bunk and received a life debilitating injury.  Having been stuck beneath many other larger than life…tots!  The circulation to both her brain and limbs became severed!  Little Dot, though, as adorable as a ferret, is slow on the uptake.  And, stopped growing after the age of one!

Little Dot doesn’t mind that Big Pat seems confused about her sexuality.  After all, Little Dot experimented down at the local shelter…back in her youth.

Big Pat, appreciates Little Dot, for her open mind.  Just the mere fact that Little Dot, will make-out one week and have an out an out brawl…the next?  Makes Big Pat want to keep Little Dot around.

Little Dot and Big Pat have been ‘friends’ for a lifetime or so.  Often, after a heated big ball game, the two will sit in the back of Pat’s remodeled school bus.  Discussing such things as;

Why squat to pee?

Why does hand size matter?

How to kill a person with one bite to the jugular

Where Little Dot could find one of those cute little ‘dog collars’ made of leather with spikes on it?

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I love Little Dot and Big Pat.  Never one to think too much about someone’s past.  Or, someone’s future…I’m uncertain about the idea of dying and coming back in another form.  That the gods decided to make all of us…cats, dogs, humans, etc., live life over and over again, until we get it right.

I am certain that Mattie and Bogie; the not so comic but funny as shit, duo, were professional bowlers in a past life!

Killing Us Softly with McNuggets

Is it okay to not worry and be happy?

On the night of Nov. 27, Mrs. Katherine Ortega bought a box of fried chicken wings (not Chicken McNuggets, contrary to some reports) at a local McDonald’s restaurant and took it home to her family. While dishing it up to feed her children, Ortega noticed that one of the pieces looked, well… funny. Examining it more closely, she saw it had eyes and a beak. She screamed. It wasn’t a wing at all, she realized; it was a chicken’s head, battered, fried, and fully intact.

It sounds like an urban legend, sure enough, which is why some people have expressed skepticism. The story has earned column inches in newspapers all across the United States — even finding its way into the esteemed Washington Post — but who trusts the media to give us the facts anymore?

Whatever Happened to Mickey: Did Pop-rocks and Soda kill the Video (Commercial) star?

In a rural New Hampshire slow to the draw town, a wouldn’t-be scientist put this to the test.  Final result?  Technicolor vomit and lack of sleep for ten days.

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As for Mickey?  He’s been spotted with Pee Wee Herman down in South Miami selling ice cream out of a unassuming white van.

Can you poke an eye out with a pair of your sister’s dirty socks?

No, but many girls will go on to become women who take balls to the face everyday

If you cross your eyes too long they will stay that way!

Of course, if you are a good catholic you will also go blind and grow hair in places that are best served for finger pointing!

Are there such persons as ‘evil eye’ givers?

Again, sisters, generally older, can make time stand still and winds change direction with the tilt of their Linda Blair head.  This situation can be rectified if they are force fed the following:

You can’t come in here, this is my mastabatorium!

A twenty piece McDonald’s McNugget meal with a  cup of 354 degree cup of coffee and a scoop of red Pop-rocks while being held captive by Milli Vanilli, Elvis Presley’s ghost and Mama Cass!

Well, now burning coffee is a movie!
Ever Hear About The Lady Who Spilled Coffee On Herself At McDonald’s, Then Sued For Millions?