hmm, maybe HOOVER woulda been a better name.

so now we are a month into living with the newest dog sammie (samiel) and things are getting really weird.....ok ok.. a little backstory here.
according to the previous owner (not sure if its true or not) she had previosly given sammie away to another lady that didn't take care of him and ended back in the local pound (he's chipped and she lives on a army base.. so guess who they called) well anyhow, the reason given for getting rid of him, was that her mastiff "tried to eat" him.. (heh it's a mastiff, ill buy that)

now i'm not sure if it was his time of neglect.. the near assasination by the mastiff, or the constant re-gifting, but this fucker is neurotic!

you even walk in the general direction of the food bag and he goes freaking nuts! i mean jumping straight up in the air and his ass is doing figure 8's while his tail is spinning like a helicopter trying to take off. (all the while making grunts and groans that remind me of the neighbors late night activities, from my first crappy apartment)

he follows the kid around as if jr were the messiah.. actually if i walk around the house it kinda looks like one of those "ducks on a string" pull toys. daddy (big duck)----jr (small duck)-----sammie (smallest duck).
of course if i was a dog, i'd be glued to jr too (never ending source of tasty bitz)

lately he has taken to sniffing the table (licking it when he thinks we aren't watching) and i've even caught him helping himself to jr's plate once.
last night.. this brilliant animal decided to snatch a piece of bread from MY table WHILE i was watching. listen folks i stabbed a guy in the hand with a fork for stealing a chicken nugget from me once.. you DO NOT TOUCH dawg's food.... that is what we would call BAD.
the only thing that saved this dog, was the fact that if i went after him faster, my food wouldve been all over the floor, and that other dog.... you know... the furry sausage with legs??, she would have been on it like an ethiopian on a chicken.

anyway, dog caught.. howling commenced... (OMG the sounds, it sounded like i was beating him with a porcupine) i'm lauging so hard at his howls that all i could do was whack him once on the head, at which point he looks at me like "thats it???? aww crap i thought i was gonna be hurtin???"

jr comes scrambling in, goes right to the damn dawg and hugs him round the neck and says "it's ok sammy" then promptly goes over and grabs a bit of sandwich off his plate and shoves it at the dog...which the dog promptly inhales (no shit.. his mouth opened, and from two feet away, this bit of sandwich seem to teleport to his mouth) just like a friggin hoover vacumn.


hmmm... HOOVER!
might be time re-name the dog, yet agin

peace
-dawg

quick, someone pass the holy water!

so, the search for a new dog ended (sucessfully...... sort-of, i think.....) rather quickly. after advertising on craigslist for a free "lab-like" dog, we ended up with a pure blooded black lab puppy. i mean, we have no papers or anything that says "this is a genuine lab" or any such nonsense, but by appearance he looks to be more lab than ya find at pet stores, and what the heck he was microchipped as well... who in their right mind chips a mutt puppy...
so here we go.. jet black, with slight white flash on chest, square blocky head, short oily coat, HUUUUGE feet.. microchipped... and definitely more enthusiastic than smart.
conclusion: black lab puppy. of course the previous owner neglected to mention the free worms, and ear mites that came with him... well, i guess ya get what ya get, and ya do what ya gotta do.

he came to us with the name "oscar" (which in retrospect might have been a perfect name, as he eats ANYTHING) but instead we promptly changed his name to "sammael" (sam -eye-ell) after the demon thing from hellboy....

little did we realize that the cute little puppy that was climbing all over our son licking and snuggling with him, would turn out to actually be the real sammael (the daemon from hellboy).

our little ball of joy has a dark side... we are talking dark lord of the sith here folks.
at night, or when we leave the house he turns into a ravening buzzsaw of destruction, and has taken to my books, with an orgiastic glee that is not to be imagined.. the blinds in my room have been reduced have been reduced by one third in size, my couch has a brand new storage space (right in the middle of the seat) and the "free range stuffed animal" population in jr's room has rocketed past endangered and is approaching impending extinction at warp 10!

the one saving grace with this whole situation is that jr freaking loves him.... god help me... the non-stop laughter is driving me insane.... i hear it in my sleep....... please ... someone.... pass the holy water... must exorcise..... the .....daemons!!!!!

peace
-dawg

The search begins: or "how i truly lost my ever lovin mind"

well the move is over, and we have ahd a couple of weeks to settle in nicely, thers still an ass-load of unpacking to do, tasks to complete though etc...

funny thing is, before we ever moved in i had a list of round 15 things or so that needed to be fixed, it was so nice to move in and find out the water heater was fricking dead... now i was checking that list out earlier today (after completing like 14 of the "immediate fix" things) and much to my surprise there are now about 25 things on it... WTF???? i mean i added like 2 things... but where did the hell did the rest of this shit come from??
looks like the damn honey-do elves have been visiting... hmmm seriously gotta get one of those electric powered flyswatters now!

most surprising of all... the newest addition to the list

#26 obtain puppy for jr.

now i am totally down with that! (bout time something broke my way) so the search begins1

we had been talking about this for a while now, and had been trying to figure a breed out... i say saint bernard.. she says chihuahua (i don't believe our tastes can be much further apart on the size scale).. while we ar talking bout this, jr comes in and says.. can i "keep the kitty???" i damn near had a heart attack, and immediately said "OHHELLNO!!!" until i found out he was talking about a dammned stuffed toy he found in the clean laundry. (ohh yeah seriously allergic to cats... last time i told the wife that i would think about her having a cat.. i said it through a face that had swollen to elephant-man like proportions......"fTThhtcctthhh cccaaattthhhh mmmmmbeeeeee")

so now we have an appointment to go look a t a lab/mix puppy on thurs. maybe we will add a new "canine american" to our clan this week... wish us luck... pretty sure that jr's gonna see and try to smother it to death right away.....


....... WITH LOVE you evil minded freaks!

peace
-dawg

thar be a storm brewin, captain!!

first off, let me apologize for not posting in a couple of weeks. the incipient move (sounds like i am talking about hemmorhoids huh?? .. ummmm wait a sec.....) has been my primary focus for a while, and has absorbed a great deal of my time and attention.
now that the move is literally a couple of days away, an odd sense of relief has set in (strange, considering that i am getting ready to take my ENTIRE LIFE and stick it in a small truck and drive away with it).

still there is a niggling sense that something just aint right.
sort of like in the movies, when the grizzled ol bosun looks at his captain, grimly points at the horizon and says "thar be a storm brewin, captain!!". ya know sunny skies with just a hint of threatning grey at the edge of the horizon.

it came to me yesterday, as i was going over the moving "plan of attack" with the wife (basically watch the kid and stay the hell out of the way). one of the last things on my list prior to actually loading the truck is pack xaviers' toys and then the tv/vsmile (OMFG this is gonna hurt!!)
the mutant is actually going to have to do without tv/games or toys for 2 or 3 whole hours. crapcrapcrapcrap! he is NOT going to be happy (and boy is he going to let us know for every horrible second of that deprivation).

thinking further about that..... i'd rather have elephant-sized hemmorhoids!!
peace
-dawg

Not fair...at all!!!

most of you (if not all) can relate to the following statement uttered by your parents at some point in your childhood (or in my case many, many, MANY times).

"i hope than when you have children, that they are EXACTLY like you"

of course when most parents say that waht they really mean is: " i hope your kids are ten times as rotten as you"

i deeply love and dearly miss my dad (he passed on a few years back) but i am truly grateful at times, that he is not around (sounds bad, but will make sense in a minute)
jr is at least as devious and rotten as i was in my childhood (and i personally suspect he will surpass ANYTHING i could have imagined as a kid). being a parent is a unique mix of pride, consternation, and frustration punctuated by moments of sheer terror.
i kid you not, i am only 35 (36 in november) and in just the last year have started to sprout noticeably grey hairs all over... i blame jr!

at this point i honestly don't think i could take my dad just sitting back and chuckling with that smug grin on his face (which is exactly what would happen were he around today) my god, i would go completely postal.

so jr comes up to me earlier, starts tugging at my arm, and chants at me "daddyletsPLAYdaddyletsPLAYdaddywannaplay" non stop.. (now to set the mood, he is bouncing up and down while all this is going on)
i tell him "daddy is busy, i will play with you in a minute"
his response? no kidding.. he GROWLS at me and goes stalking off to his room (gawd i wanna strangle him sometimes)
about 5 minutes later, he comes strolling in and says "DADDY LOOK"
knowing that if i don't look, this won't end for a loooong time.. i cave in and look (hear my spine snapping, don't ya?)

at which point he takes the book he's holding (battered copy of a softback 3 inch thick parenting book) and whops the dog upside the head with it (think melon dropped on concrete sound), grins... and HAULS ASS the hell outta the living room (smart booger sees the look on my face, and KNOWS his butt is about to reach 1000 degrees wheni catch him).
meanwhile the poor fucking dog is just kinda laying on the ground twitching trying to figure out what just happened...

i know that i was a rotten kid.... but dammit dad, did ya have to curse me with the SPAWN OF SATAN???

peace
-dawg

RANT WARNING!!!!!!

for all of you who read my blog, i apologize ahead of time for the following rant. i realize that most of my regualr readers come here for the antics of the mutant, and am truly humbled by the fact that i do in fact have regular readers.
this however is not about the mutant at all.

****profanity and strong language follow DO NOT read aloud to children... please*****

i swera to god, if it weren't illegal, i'd hunt down and fucking skin every single one of these lying retarded sack o shit realtors i have been dealing with over the last few months (my buyers agent excluded)
i wrote recently about how it seems that realtors do not even speak common english.

after months of searching, just in the last month we had found 2 separate homes that we wre interested in, and frankly just about fell in love with both of them.
now i realize as we are looking at budget homes, that there are expected condition issues that will have to be dealt with. i am fine with that

house#1 beautiful little house great condition, something that i caould easily call home.
so we put in an offer, granted it was a low offer to test the market out... and as expected the offer was rejected.. (no biggie.. part of the process)
the chicken shit realtor didn't even bother to call and speak to our agent.. he sent a freaking EMAIL, and not only that, was a fucking dick about things in the email... (resulting in "severe case of ass" about the realtor)

ok ... many fish in the sea and all that... move along to look at other properties.

interim (here is where we saw what these gems of humanity call "need tlc" homes (needs to be freaking condemmned is more like it)

house #2 little bit larger than the first, needs work (some obvious cosmetic stuff) but overall we really like it.. once again, something i could easily call home..
at initial offer it had a renter in it.. selling realtor says, up the earnest money, and we will have the renter out before closing (ok i can go fo that.. dsaves me some serious hassle) offer made, counter offer in, counter-counter offer made.... and BINGO we agree, and sign a purchase contract, contingent on home inspection and appraisal. turns out the owners were already evicting the renters, so they tell us "good news" we can move the closing up if you want to...
i'm thinking .. aweseome... now for the home inspection....

did the home inspection yesterday....... where the hell do i start.... this fucking idiotic asshole of a realtor could have given us a heads up so that i did not waste my time, money, and emotional investment (MAY IT ROT AND FALL OFF YOU PRICK)
ok the roof is rotting and needs to be replaced.. not only that, but the damn think is framed with 1X4's holy crap.. i wouldnt build a damn doghouse with 1x4's let alone a structural roof..
recalled POS (BUSS FUSE) electric panel.. that was actually recalled in the 60's
move to the basement...MOLD... LOTS OF MOLD ductwork is laying on the ground .. on the FREAKING MOLDY ASS GROUND.....

the home inspector and i have a quick (off the records) chat, and do some quick figuring.... to fix this thing would cost almost as much as we offered on the house.... so obviously.. no deal

this is after having our agent say DIRECTLY to the realtor.. "this is intended as a family home, and these folks will be moving in almost immediately after close" and him responding "great i think they will love it"
WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE suggests that a family with children WILL LOVE living in a home that could a: collapse on top of them, b: burn to the ground due to illegal faulty electricals, or c: kill the inhabitants by injecting toxic mold directly from the basement into the central air sysytem...
apparantely i have found the josef stalin of realtors (just wnats his needs filled and dont care if it KILLS other folks).... ohh yeah.. sat on the toilet and almost ended up in the basement.....

thank god for home inspectors.....
-dawg

just 3 words......

intravenous candy bars!